


The Cabin Boy

by GemmaRose



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Community: rotg_kink, M/M, Pirates, Space Pirates, jack is a space pirate, or he was
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-07
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2017-12-18 00:56:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 28,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/873871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GemmaRose/pseuds/GemmaRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the end of the Golden Age, there was a pirate ship named the Nightmare Galleon. It was captained by Pitch, the Nightmare King. This much is known by many. What no one knew was that Pitch was in love with his cabin boy, Jack. And the feeling was very much mutual. But in the battle with the Moon Clipper Jack died and Pitch got blasted to earth. Pitch gives up hope of ever even seeing his Jack again. All he seeks now is fear and revenge.</p>
<p>De-anon from rotg-kink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GarnetWings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GarnetWings/gifts).



Pitch sat glumly in his lair, concentrating on a tiny doll he was crafting out of pure shadow. The boy had been a Dream Pirate on his ship so many eons ago, and after his recent defeat the Nightmare King was remembering things he'd long thought forgotten. Frost was so infuriatingly similar to Jackson, his cabin boy from so long ago. His laugh was Jackson's laugh from before the transformation, his grin a shining version of the one Pitch held so dear, even his personality was as Jackson's had been before the Shadow Fever had press-ganged him to the Nightmare Galleon for eternity.

The doll stretched and waved up at Pitch, and a matching Nightmare Captain doll formed almost instantaneously. The Boogieman smiled longingly as the two dolls danced, conjuring a dhingy for them which morphed to a Nightmare Galleon larger than his head when the shadow-Jackson stepped aboard.

The illusion fell apart when a NightMare raced past after one of Tooth's fairies who had gotten a bit cocky, and though the dream-beast didn't notice Pitch's glare it made him feel quite a lot better. Standing, he began to wander the ever-shifting halls of his Realm. Perhaps he would find the passage which lead to his ship, where Jackson's fancy dress uniform still hung neatly pressed on a hanger.

\-----

In Argentina Jack yawned, rubbing at his eyes. The one downside to Guardianship so far was that he had to sleep regularly. Not enough Believers yet to keep his energy high for weeks and months at a time, like North and Tooth, but his handful around Burgess were more than enough to keep him happy.

Pulling his tooth box from the pocket he kept it in, he fell into a snow drift and let the gentle flurries cover him. A trickle of Dreamsand crawled from the pouch in his pocket, and the boy-spirit smiled as he fell into a deep, happy memory-dream.

\-----

Jack looked around, taking in his surroundings. This wasn't his house, or the village, or the forest, or the river, or any of the other places his memory-dreams usually took place. It looked like a ship, bustling with dark-skinned men and women in darker clothes. Some wore dull grey jewlery, but most were unadorned. In fact, save their glowing golden eyes, they just about blended in with the star-strewn sky and the ship itself. Glancing around, Jack called on the memory to figure out when and where he was. Ship, Stars, Adventure. He rolled his eyes and looked at his arm. His jacket was tailored navy cloth so dark it was nearly black, obviously high-end. His pants were denim the colour of dark chocolate, and he knew instinctively that his shirt was tight black cotton. But his hands were pale, not human pale but the pale he'd seen every day for the past 300 years. Something was definitely odd with this memory.

"Jackson."

Jack let the memory take over, watching from inside his own body as he turned to smile as a tall, slender man with grey skin and a hooked nose. He spent a little too long oggling how well the impressive black and gold coat clung to the Captain's chest, and a little more appreciating the jet black pants which tucked into gold-buckled boots. "Good evening, Captain." he said with a smile, leaving Jack stunned and clueless.

**Pitch?** Why was his memory-self smiling at and- and _flirting with_ Pitch Black?

"You are a cabin boy, are you not?"

Jackson glanced at the abandoned mop and bucket of dirty water next to the mast, and shrugged lazily. "Yeah."

Pitch grinned. "Well, my cabin floor could use some scrubbing."

Jackson grinned and sauntered forward, purposefully swaying his hips a little bit as he walked past Pitch to the door which would lead down the hall to the Captain's quarters. Jack was hyperaware of the wolf-whistles and catcalls, but Jackson brushed them off without hesitation.

The door clicked shut behind him and Jack woke up with a jolt, sitting upright and clutching at his chest, staring dumbly at his tooth box. Pulling out the pouch of Dreamsand, which Sandy had promised was a special blend to help him remember the memories he re-lived in the dreams, he alternated between staring at the two objects.

Grabbing his staff, Jack stuffed the box and pouch back in his pocket with his very own tiny wooden baby and took off for the Island of Sleepy Sands. It couldn't possibly be the teeth, the other memories he'd recalled this past week were just normal everyday things. Market day, taking care of his mom, courting the blacksmith's daughter. The error must lie in the Dreamsand, maybe Sandy meant to give this to Bunny as a joke, or tuck it under the bed of a troubled child as he'd mentioned doing before.

Land gave way to sea, and Jack played at freezing the caps of waves which crested under him for a little while before urging the wind faster. If Sandy was home, as he often had been in this past month after Pitch's defeat, Jack would be able to spend most of his day messing with the latest scientist team in Antarctica. Maybe even rustle up a believer, if one of them had their kid along for the ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify, in future chapters dream/past Jack will be referred to as Jackson. Jack is just an observer with no control over his past actions, he also feels what Jackson was feeling, and he can listen in on Jackson's thoughts if he bothers to try. Oh, and my personal headcanon is that Fearlings/Nighmare Men/Shadow Pirates can be created from normal people in much the same way as zombies. Bites, kisses, treatment of an open wound while you've got a cut as well, any sort of exchange of bodily fluid. Some people are more susceptible to Shadow Fever, some people have a natural resistance, the rare handful are almost totally immune, you get where I'm going?
> 
> (sudden headcanon. the more Believers a Guardian has, the less they need to sleep. this is why Sandy sleeps all the time, cuz virtually nobody actually _believes_ in him anymore)


	2. Chapter 2

The Island of Sleepy Sands was warm under his feet when he landed, and though its tiny shell guards didn't stab at his ankles, nor did they escort him to Sandy. A Mermaid sang a few notes of greeting, which he whistled in return before sitting on the shore. Was it really worth bothering the ever-busy Guardian with his silly little dream? It wasn't a nightmare, after all, and the yellow man had been so emphatic about the sand when he gave it to Jack. Perhaps he'd simply had a normal dream, let go of his tooth box for a minute in his sleep and drifted into a regular old dream, like kids had every night. A weird, kinda borderline disturbing dream, but a normal dream all the same. Yeah, that had to be it. So there was really no need to bother Sandy at all.

Standing, he brushed glittering golden grains from his clothing and waved to the Mermaids, letting the wind scoop him up and fling him south, towards his Pole. Sadly the researcher who'd had his girls along last time Jack visited was gone, but there was a new teenage intern taking pictures with a small digital camera. He snapped a few more pictures after Jack pulled in a snow flurry, then zipped it into his pocket with a smile. A woman with greying hair came out of the station and called to the teen, who apparently was named Jeremy, and Jack took the opportunity to nail the boy with a snowball.

He turned with a laugh, but instead of picking up some of the fresh snow and returning fire he went inside to take a phone call from some girl named Candace. Jack stuck his tongue out at the solidly shut door and went to play with the penguins, creating wild tracks for them to slide down. The day passed quickly, and as he began to grow tired the winter sprite crafted himself a small igloo. A normal human would've frozen to death inside, as he left off the wind block in the entrance, but the breeze suited Jack just fine. Crafting a suitably soft snow bank, he pulled out his tooth box and drifted off into a deep sleep.

\-----

The cabin warm warm and well lit, and before he was fully conscious of his whereabouts Jack got a sense of safety and protection, but mostly of love. Not fleeting like a child's love of sledding, but the enduring love of family. As his mind cleared, however, he realised this was not his home. The walls were wrong, the size and shape of the room were wrong, and most of all the man who sat across the table was definitely not his father. Had he been able to, he would've dropped his head against the table.

"Seriously, Pitch? A necklace? Is it even physically possible for you to get cheesier?" Jackson joked, popping a piece of bread into his mouth.

"What? You're a pirate now, Jackson. Best to look the part."

Jackson rolled his eyes. "By wearing a lady's locket?"

Pitch frowned. "If you would take a moment to look inside, I think you'll want to keep it."

Jackson grumbled but did as he was told, and Jack felt the pang of shock and loss as strong as he dream-self did. On one side was a woman with short white hair and blue eyes, one hand on the shoulder of a girl who seemed a younger verion of her with brown eyes. On the other side was a man with a square jaw and short brown beard, wearing a military dress uniform. One hand rested on the pommel of his sword, while the other arm was around the narrow shoulders of a teenage boy with bright blue eyes and a wide smile.

"Did you-"

Pitch shook his head. "How could I? He is home now, safe with your mother and sister."

Jackson beamed and slid the chain over his head, feeling its weight against his chest. "Thank you, Pitch."

The Nightmare King smiled and reached across the small table, stroking Jackson's face. Jack found his double leaning into the touch, even as he tried in vain to pull away.

"You would've made an honourable soldier." Pitch mused.

Jackson chortled, placing his hand over Pitch's to keep it cupped against his cheek. "But I like this life better."

Pitch phased into shadow for half a second, and when he reappeared he was looming over Jackson. "I prefer you like this as well." he purred, drawing Jackson to his feet.

Jack felt a sick churning sensation in his gut as Pitch took his hand and led him to the bed at the other end of the room, though Jackson was flooded with joy and anticipation. It truly was a bed, not a cot or pallet or hammock as Jackson and the rest of the crew slept on. The sheets were soft and grey, and as Pitch's hands slid up under his jacket Jackson's breath hitched. His hands found the buttons on the Nightmare King's coat and began undoing them, only to be playfully slapped away.

"Turns, Jackson." Pitch reminded him with a gentle smile.

Jack felt sick, but his dream-self nodded and continued to sit on the edge of the soft mattress as Pitch stripped away the blue jacket with excruciating slowness. For reasons Jack couldn't fathom, the pace was actually rather arousing.

When it was his turn, however, the only pacing was caused by fumbling with the buttons. Pitch was down to a baggy grey tank top and nice black pants in a matter of seconds, and Jackson was finding it rather hard to breathe regularly as the Captain ran slender grey fingers up his neck and along his jawline. His shirt was the next thing to go, rolled gently up and then thrown carelessly to the side so the locket rested cold on his bare skin. Pitch's hat was removed with his tank top and then, to Jack's surprise, placed carefully back on his head. His dream-self's pants and boots came off slightly faster than his shirt and coat, but Pitch's pants were carefully un-tucked from his boots and the boots left on.

The sight of the Nightmare King naked save for a pirate hat and nearly knee-high boots should not have as enticing as it was to Jack. He blamed Jackson, for his dream-self was making bedroom eyes at Pitch and Pitch was returning the look. The air was charged, Pitch's gaze intense enough to set Jackson's skin prickling even before long fingers began tracing down his side.

"Shall we begin?" Pitch asked, voice deeper and more husky than normal. It was oddly enticing.

Jackson obviously thought so too, because he scooted back away from Pitch's touch so his legs were completely on the bed. "Yes, captain."

Pitch crawled up and placed a hand on the small of Jackson's back, laying the young man down gently and kissing down his cheek. Jack shuddered, and as Pitch whispered something into his ear in a foreign language, the young Guardian suddenly woke. His igloo was unchanged, his snow pile only slightly disturbed, but something had changed. He could tell it was still early, he'd only slept a few hours, but when he tried to close his eyes and go back to sleep he found his racing mind would not calm enough to let him rest. Every blink, it seemed, brought another flash from his dream. The unfettered love in Pitch's eyes, the heady elation of having a piece of his family, and the relief of knowing they were all okay. He sighed and turned onto his back, lifting his hand with the tooth box and inspecting it from every angle. There was his face, there was the compartment which held his teeth, there was no space for an extra set unless they were worked into the metal itself.

An image of Pitch, nude save the hat and gold-clasped boots, came unbidden to Jack's mind and he dropped his head back against the ice floor of his igloo. He could still feel the phantom chill of the Nightmare King's touch on his skin, and god damn it just thinking about that part of the dream was making him hard. Stupid dream, making the stupid Boogieman seem sexy and caring and- _fuck_.

Jack lifted his head and banged it against the ground again, harder this time. Why couldn't he just have normal memory dreams, and not dreams about a stupid, smug, arrogant, _sexy_ pirate version of the Boogeyman. Rolling back onto his side, Jack squeezed his eyes shut and thought of playing with Emma, cooking with his mom, hunting with his dad. Anything but Pitch's soft gold eyes and gentle, calloused fingers and- goddammit this wasn't working.

Jack groaned and smashed his head sideways against the ground as hard as he could. Maybe if he knocked himself out instead of sleeping naturally, he'd actually get some proper rest. Of course, all he got for his troubles was a headache and a boner which was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. Grabbing his staff, Jack tucked the tooth box back in his pocket and crawled outside. Maybe playing with the penguins some more would help him get his mind off his dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand the dreams start getting more vivid! If anyone has any ideas for dream sequences, I'd greatly appreciate the help. Oh, and I'm willing to offer a short fill/minifill on a prompt of choice for anyone who makes an art of pirate!Pitch and cabin boy!Jack, because these two are shaping up to be one of the most tooth-rottingly sappy pairs I've written in ages.


	3. Chapter 3

Jack shook his head violently, conjuring a snowball and mashing it against the back of his neck so clumps of cold slid down under his hoodie. If the other Guardians could go weeks and months on end without rest, he should be able to do it too. One week was just a measly little thing, he'd even seen kids do it when they had tests to study for. The wind whined, and he shook his head again. "No, I'm fine." he insisted, gripping his staff tighter. If he kept moving, kept thinking about snowball fights and perfect sled rides, he should be able to avoid both sleep and the discomforting dreams it brought.

The wind started taking him lower, towards the base of a cliff where snow had drifted naturally into both a perfect sledding hill and a perfect bed. Jack frowned and tugged the wind up, returning to his pursuit of the sunset. "Not yet. I'm still awake." he mumbled, breathing deeply in and out through his nose to avoid a yawn. The wind twisted and he nearly fell off, regaining his balance only when the breeze calmed.

"That was a dirty trick." he grumbled as the wind brought him lower. A thatch of woods was just to the side, and he grinned. Some adrenaline should wake him up for the next little while. "Wind! Let's go through the trees!" he called with a grin, the last bits of snowball falling out of his jacket as he dipped down to trunk level.

The first three whipped by quickly, and Jack let out a whoop of joy as he turned tight around the fourth. Not two seconds later, of course, a branch laden with perfect packing snow and stubby icicles whacked him on the shoulder. His grip on the staff slackened, and when he hit the tree attached to said branch he dropped the hooked stick completely. Gravity grabbed him without hesitation or remorse, and he had only a moment to cry out before his view went pure white, then pure black.

\-----

Jackson laughed, stomping his feet in time to the wild tune played by the Nightmare Man with a fiddle. Six of the other crewmen were performing some dance he had never seen, which the fiddler had announced as a traditional one from the Helera System.

"Make a hole!" a lady shouted off to his left, and Jackson leaned out to see who was joining the dance. A familiar black-coated figure strode out, tossing aside his mug and pulling the cook behind him. Jackson roared with laughter alongside the rest of the crew, watching their tall and slender leader whirl around and around with the wide-hipped galley chief.

"Nice catch, Janice!" another crewman called, making the cook laugh.

"He's all yours if you want him!" she called back breathlessly, and Jackson felt a stab of jealousy. He _wanted_ the captain to be his, wanted it like he'd wanted to be a soldier, and then a member of this crew. Realising he'd been staring at the Captain, he blushed and turned away, heading down belowdecks to a small chamber he'd discovered while wandering about one night. It was just barely large enough to house two people crouching, or three packed in like upright sardines, and when he slipped behind the stack of crates and sacks and barrels he was completely hidden from view.

Pulling a flap of loose burlap up, he ducked through into the tiny closet-like space with a relieved sigh. He wasn't quite used to life on this ship yet, and this space which was just big enough for him to sit in cross-legged felt the closest to what privacy he'd had back home on Taeros. Putting his back against the wall, he slid slowly down until his feet were pressed against the opposite wall and his legs bent up in front of his face. Closing his eyes, he untied his pants and pulled them down around his ankles before leaning his legs out to touch the side walls.

His imagination had never failed him before, and this time was no exception. He stroked himself to life quickly, imagining it was the captain's long, slender fingers rubbing over his sensitive skin. His breath hitched as he ran his thumb over the slick head of his cock, and the teen bit his lip to stifle a moan. He'd never had much stamina, and this particular fantasy was way more erotic than the usual nearly-naked women from Chris's R-18 holo-mags back home. Pitch held him down with one hand, his strokes languid and firm, confidence oozing from him like oily shadows oozed from some of the crew.

He whispered in Jackson's ear, breath hot on his sweaty skin and tongue flicking out between possessive words. The teen gasped quietly, pressing his head back against the boards and giving a few quick jerks to finish himself off. He came with a ragged gasp, stifling a moan of the captain's name as he slumped against the rough wood.

\-----

Jack woke up disoriented, surrounded by white and with his pants uncomfortably sticky. It only took the winter sprite a minute to realise what had happened. Swearing quietly, he hauled himself upright and rubbed at his eyes. These dreams were seriously cutting into his sleeping time. Not only did his hate the idea of submitting to his unconscious, but he always woke up more tired than he'd been before falling asleep.

Digging at the snow bank he'd fallen into, Jack fished out his staff and hauled himself upright. "Wind!" he called. The breeze scooped him up and deposited him at somebody's unlocked basement window. Jack had done this many times before, though usually just after holidays when he'd snitched ungodly amounts of candy and needed to wash it out. Stripping off his soiled trousers and briefs, the Guardian pulled on an oversized T-shirt and sat down to wait. He only realised he'd nodded off when he was awoken by the buzzer announcing his tiny load was done. Lifting out his pants, he threw them in the attached dryer and kicked the door shut. It started without a fuss, unlike the last time he'd had to use one of these things, and he contemplated sticking his hand into the exposed flame. The pain would probably keep him awake for a few days if he agitated it enough.

Shaking his head, the boy slumped against the washer and cradled his head in his hands. "What's wrong with me?" he moaned to the wisp of wind which curled worriedly around his shoulders. "First I couldn't sleep or dream, now I can't sleep _because_ of my dreams."

He laughed mirthlessly, shaking his head. As soon as his pants were clean he'd stash the bag under a kid's bed and bring the box back to Tooth. Then he might be able to actually sleep properly. A yawn split his face, making his jaw creak, and Jack contemplated again sticking his arm in the dryer's flame. He settled for biting his lip until it bled, making another small pink mark next to the others. The past month had been torture, but without his baby teeth or the special Dreamsand he might be able to finally get some sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even pulling one all-nighter can be extremely draining, and Jack is nearing his breaking point. The fact that when he does sleep he can't complete a single REM cycle without the dreams waking him up is only making it worse. Poor baby :(  
> Ah who am I kidding it's fun making him suffer :)


	4. Chapter 4

Pitch slid through the shadows, scattering bad dreams in each night-cloaked city he visited. When he appeared just out of the sun's irritating light, he spread unease that occasionally burst into small scuffles and minor injuries. It was nothing grand, but Fear was a constant and the small doses kept him alive just as they did the ones he administered them to. After a few hours, however, he found himself pausing in a basement. No, not a basement, a cluttered bedroom. A teenager slept soundly under white blankets, golden sand curling into the shape of winged children. Ah, yes, this one. He'd fed on her numerous times in the past, mostly base fears with a smattering of abandonment issues. Reaching out, he waved a hand over the Dreamsand figures and turned them into giant hawks. Before she could do more than whimper, however, the hawk had been brought down by an enormous dolphin. From there the dream became dolphins and mermaids, and Pitch's brow furrowed. Dolphins became sharks, which were destroyed by a suit of armour, which was turned to slag and then re-formed into a giant music box.

Bending over, Pitch frowned at the tiny red pouch hanging from the underside of the bed. It came off the slat without a fight, and the Nightmare King frowned harder. This was North's craftsmanship without a doubt, and full of Sanderson's most potent Dreamsand, but this girl didn't bear the mark of the Dreamweaver's protection. Stepping under her bed and back into his lair, he turned the pouch inside out. The tag was so small he almost missed it in his first scan, but it was undeniably there, and there was only one spirit with the initials J.F. who was close enough to both Guardians to ask for such a thing.

The floating ball of sand fit neatly back into the tiny sack, and Pitch phased back out of his Realm into the shadows of late afternoon. Frost was moving quickly, darting in and out of trees too fast for the Boogeyman to get a lock on him. the infuriating sprite's laughter rang through the air, and Pitch gritted his teeth. If he didn't find the boy soon he might have to throttle him, permanently remove that sound from the world. It had never belonged to any planet, and to have all he'd lost thrown in his face at each encounter with the Guardians' youngest was a thought that made him feel ill.

"Frost!" he called snappishly, the clouds turning ominous as he strode past a group of frollicking youngsters. They turned and ran shrieking for the street, back to their safe warm houses where they couldn't get lost or frozen in the brewing storm.

"I know you're here, you little pest." he snarled, feeling the shadows all around him for any trace of magic. There.

A bolt of ice hit the ground three yards to his left, and the Nightmare King raised a single bare brow. "Feeling off your game, Frost?" he smirked, drawing the pouch from his robe and holding it out in his palm. "Not been sleeping well?"

There was a curse from his right, at about 2 o clock, and in less than a blink Pitch had the young spirit lashed with shadows to the tree he'd perched in. The staff was forced from his hand, falling to the ground below, and Pitch stepped up into the fir to face his enemy.

"Such foul language." he smirked. "Who let you work with children, again?"

"Jus take the dam thing an go." Jack growled, tugging weakly at the bonds.

"Oh, you really _aren't_ sleeping well." he grinned, circling the teen. Bloodshot eyes, bruise-like half-moons under heavy lids, a twitch in his jaw like he was trying not to yawn, marks all along his lips where he'd bitten to draw blood. "Here, let me help." he purred, dropping the pouch through a shadow to the bottom of the ocean where it couldn't interfere.

"Won't work."

Jack grinned, and it held none of his usual mischief and mirth. The boy seemed desperate not to sleep, but of course the real question was why.

"Oh, we'll see about that." Pitch crooned, cupping the boy's cheek. Too cold, but just exactly the shape his hand remembered from so long ago. "You'll find I am _very_ good at getting what I want."

Actually, the boy felt colder than normal. He'd been forced to trade blows with the spirit a handful of times, and the pale skin was far below the usual temperature. "Frost, are you blushing?" he smirked, scraping his thumbnail across the slight accumulation of ice on the winter sprite's cheek.

"None'f your business." he hissed. Pitch could hear his heart beating, speed increasing as the boy's temperature dropped. Intense blushing, or in this case frosting, increased heart rate, dilated pupils and ragged breaths. The Nightmare King took in the details swiftly, and he hid the tentative hope with a devious smirk.

"Why Frost, if I didn't know better I'd think you were attracted to me." he purred, watching as Jack went utterly still. Leaning close, he stepped closer to the teen. Part of him wanted to kiss those half-open lips, see if Frost was as talented as Jackson had been, but that part was viciously squashed in favour of further flustering the Guardian.

"But of course." he whispered, bringing his mouth right up to Jack's ear and using the voice which had always driven Jackson wild. "We both know that can't possibly be true."

"Y-Yeah." Jack stammered, heart racing almost faster than should be humanly possible. "Not possible."

Pitch smirked, and it took the greatest self restraint he'd ever implemented to do no more than trace the winter sprite's lips with his index finger. The young Guardian was practically radiating terror, not of what Pitch might do to him but of how he might respond. So of course, the only course of action was to test those fears.

Pitch slid his hand slowly up the teen's thigh until it rested right at the waistband of Jack's hoodie, his fingers curling around the heavy wool while his thumb ran little crescents under deep blue cotton. There was no two ways about it, Frost _moaned_ at his touch. Pitch raised a brow as Jack's terror became heady mortification, and against his better judgement leaned down and kissed the younger spirit.

The kiss of the Boogeyman brought instantaneous nightmares, when he wanted it to, so of course the fraction of a second when it has felt like Jack was returning the kiss must've been Pitch's imagination. Lust spells weren't uncommon, especially with Cupid's one-warning policy, but even Eros herself couldn't turn loathing into love. So as Jack's head lolled, Pitch loosed the shadows and stepped down to the base of the tree. The teen curled onto his side as soon as he was placed in the snow bank, and the ancient King packed himself a small stool of snow to sit upon. The young Guardian's staff laid at the base of his seat, and Pitch Black settled in to watch Jack Frost's nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaaand the dream/nightmare will be next chapter. Pitch was waaaaaay too much fun to write, especially since he was pretty much giving overtired!Jack the most awkward boner ever without realising it. Seriously, Pitch, you can be as dumb as a rock sometimes.


	5. Chapter 5

Jackson gritted his teeth, wiping his hands on his pants. How long had it been since he came on board? Glancing at Pitch, he worried his lip. Not long enough, that was for sure. The Captain looked almost surreal in his battle armour, towering over the rest of the crew like all the legends said. It would be a difficult battle, but afterwards he knew the Captain would be drunk on victory and possibly rum as well. And there was nothing in this star system cuter than Pitch when he was sloshed.

The teen twisted his grey hands together, leaning on the railing to watch the approaching blue planet and its moon. In that moon their greatest enemies slumbered, every want attended to by a flock of unnatural beasts and scurrying machines. Their decadence sickened him, and he stuck his tongue out at the Moonclipper before returning to his duties. Not long now and he'd be with the Captain's boarding party, proving once and for all to the rest of the crew that he was one of them through and through. He'd let Liam lead him to the young Lunanoff, then slit the idiot's throat and claim the glory for himself. An idea flashed through his head that perhaps Pitch would let him help raise the little Fearling Prince, and Jackson shook that thought away before his grin could betray him. No point in speculating on a future he had yet to create.

"Yo, J."

Jackson looked up and grinned. "Hey, Liam. You ready?"

"Hell yeah!" the taller Shadow Pirate grinned, mop of black hair falling in his eyes.

"Might wanna tie that back for the boarding." Jackson snarked, picking up the rag he was supposed to be using on the railing.

"Eh, I'll do that before the boarding." he grinned lazily, grabbing a spare rag and slapping it down on the rail. "How was last night?"

Jackson snorted and elbowed the other Shadow Man. "Strictly, it's none of your business."

Liam pulled a face, and Jackson laughed. "But, seeing as we're pirates," he grinned rakishly and winked. "The Captain is _really_ good at swordplay."

Liam roared with laughter and clapped Jackson on the back. "That's my Jacky boy!"

Jackson scowled, but said nothing. Soon enough he'd be rid of the lout once and for all, and instead of two allies he'd have a whole boatful. "Yeah. That's me."

Liam grinned, displaying a mouthful of pointy yellowing teeth, and tousled Jackson's hair. "Just make sure you keep off my good side when Barthhog does a sketch of us and the little Tsar-to-be."

Jackson forced a grin and nodded, going back to wiping solar dust from the wooden rails. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, the glory would be all his.

\-----

The halls gleamed with light, at a guess Jackson would've said there was stardust worked into each wall panel and ceiling tile. It was so pure it burned his eyes and made his skin itch. Liam on his right had those pointy teeth bared in a grimace, and Jackson's eyes were all but shut against the shine. "Where's the damn squirt?" Liam snarled, opening another door and checking inside. Empty, just like all the others.

"Should've found him by now." Jackson scowled, opening the next door in the corridor. As soon as they found the boy, he'd use the knife in his boot to slit the older pirate's throat and reap the rewards for himself.

Liam was reaching to open the next door when it flew open, nearly smacking him in the face. A lithe boy, maybe five years younger than Jackson, burst out of the dimmer corridor brandishing a crystal dagger. His outfit was covered in dimly glowing baubles, and his star-shine hair stood up in long, gravity-defying curls. Jackson held his short-sword up at the ready, point aimed at the star-child's (for what else could he be?) throat.

The dagger flashed, taking off Liam's hand in a single swipe, and then the boy was off down the corridor in long bounds. Liam howled in pain and rage, sprinting after him blindly, and Jackson followed. The hunt was on!

The star-boy's laughter rang back at them, further enraging Liam and exciting Jackson. He'd not played a game this fun since he joined the Army. The pre-teen twirled around a corner, and when Liam charged after the brat Jackson saw a spurt of black liquid. Liam fell backwards, and Jackson leapt over his body at the offending star-child. "Die!" he screamed, slashing his half-length blade at the pre-teen's chest.

The boy danced away, pulling a funny face before turning tail and fleeing. Jackson chased after him, all the way up to the skin of the ship. The hull was dark, but the light of the nearest star was harsh. Jackson could feel his skin crisping within the first three seconds, but his attention was focused solely on the spectral boy. "Get back here you impudent brat!" he howled, swinging wildly as the boy danced backwards.

"Can't catch me~" the star-child sang, leaping over Jackson.

"You li-"

Jackson's words were cut short, and he looked down to see a crystal hilt protruding from his chest. Looking back up, his blue-back eyes met the boy's utterly silver ones. He dimly heard a wet sucking sound as the blade was removed, and after one last faint heartbeat everything went black.

\-----

Nightlight pushed the body away, wiping the inky blood off on its stained coat which may have once been blue. Hurling the shadow-man's corpse upwards, he watched for a moment as it drifted towards the planet they circled. Turning on his heel, he dashed back into the ship and towards the sound of fighting. He'd deflected the would-be assassins, but the young Tsar would not be truly safe until the Nightmare King had been vanquished. If his dagger didn't do the trick, then he'd just have to improvise. But truly, what was Pitch Black but a Fearling grown too large?

\----------

1- Imagine Dragons is great writing music  
2- I had _way_ too much fun writing this  
3- HOLY SHIT I DID NOT EXPECT THIS MUCH RESPONSE cionljvnslagvbjdfkbvjkldfanvjnjka.nrujfg THANKS YOU GUYS I LOVE YOU ALL


	6. Chapter 6

Pitch broke free of the Nightmare just half a second before Jack did, just a blink too late to avoid seeing _his Jackson_ stabbed through the heart by that thrice-damned Nightlight's infernal crystal dagger. The youngest Guardian woke with a shout, and his impossibly wide eyes locked with his. How he'd missed the distinctive blue of a Tauran sunset, Pitch didn't know, but in a single swift movement Jack had snatched up his staff and fled to the skies.

After a moment of numb shock, Pitch realised he'd not even held the boy under for half an hour. The boy shouldn't have had such a vivid dream in such a short timespan, even if he did cycle through his REM stages at double-speed, a trick he'd taken to playing on victims who could spare a cycle. Standing, Pitch's face set in a stern frown. Some older power was at work here. Older than the Guardians, older than the fickle Tsar in his broken space ship, perhaps even older than him. Phasing into the shadows, Pitch emerged in the rarely-used war room of his lair. Whatever force was messing with the re-incarnation of _his_ lover would have hell to pay.

\-----

Jack flew as fast as he could, ignoring the wind's howling and shrieking. The Pole was closest, and he couldn't handle this on his own anymore. A stray gust made him wobbled precariously, and the winter sprite almost cried in frustration. Pitch's tormenting kept playing on a loop in his head, interspersed with an image of Pitch in the armour from his Nightmare and the man's face when he'd awoken. He'd looked horrified, and wistful, and sad, but worst was the mixture of raw pain and love in his dumbstruck face.

Jack shook his head, forcing the wind higher so he could go nearly supersonic. North had a library. North could tell him if these dreams were real or figment. Maybe he could even cure them. The wind dropped him unceremoniously on he doorstep, and he nearly hit his head on the frame. While being forcibly knocked out by a sharp wooden corner would've definitely gotten him inside, it also would've given him another memory-dream. So he hit the door twice with his staff and stumbled inside when it opened, waving off worried Yetis as he passed and hauling himself up the stairs using the railing.

Staggering against the door to North's office, he slumped against it and knocked weakly. It opened after a moment, and Jack fell face-first into the larger Guardian's chest.

"Jack?" North's large, warm hands clamped on his shoulders and pulled him upright. "What is wrong. You are not looking so good."

Jack gritted his teeth against a yawn. Usually the sense of brisk cold so near outside the windows was enough to keep him properly alert while at the Pole, but in his current state even just being in the same room as a fire was making him drowsy. "Do you have-" he couldn't stop the jaw cracking yawn, and the head-shake did little to wake him up. "Have a way to make me fall asleep and stay asleep?"

North made a confused face. "Shouldn't you be going to Sandy-"

"No." Jack said, a bit more fiercely than he'd intended to. "Dreamsand doesn't work."

"Well..." North tapped his chin. "Is something in medicine. Come, I will show you."

Jack nodded, stuffing a snowball down his hoodie the moment North's back was turned and following the Russian giant down the halls. He watched as the older man opened a cabinet and pulled out a small vial of green liquid, glancing only once at the label before grabbing something that looked remarkably like a shot glass.

"Yetis use for when they need to sleep well." he explained, handing the mint-scented syrup to Jack. "That will put you out for a few hours. When you wake up, we can talk."

Jack nodded, slugging the concoction and making a face afterwards. "That did _not_ taste like mint."

North roared with laughter, clapping a hand on Jack's shoulder. "Is medicine, Jack. Come, your room is-"

Jack shook his head. "Office is closer." he muttered, pressing a hand to his forehead as if that would stop the world spinning. Of course, he'd already been overtired when he took it and it was a yeti-sized dose. "Please." he added as an afterthought.

North must've heard him slurring, because the next thing Jack knew he was being carried down the hall in the older spirit's arms. He wasn't even conscious when North opened the door to his office and gave a passing Yeti instructions to keep the noise down so the youngest Guardian could rest.

\-----

Jackson gasped, nails digging into the soft skin between Pitch's shoulder blades. "Yes." he moaned, rolling his hips in time with Pitch's. "Yes, there. Gods, yes."

Pitch chuckled, nipping gently along Jackson's inner arm up to the shoulder. "Needy tonight?" he breathed in the younger man's ear.

Jackson didn't nod, just turned his head to capture Pitch's lips in a desperate, sloppy kiss. "Yes, Captain." he whispered after the grey-skinned pirate pulled away to nip the hypersensitive shell of his ear.

Pitch smirked, drawing back so he could meet Jackson's eyes, buttery gold locking with intense blue. "Now that's what I like to hear."

\-----

Jack woke suddenly, but instead of jerking with a rush of adrenaline he found himself paralysed, unable to twitch or even blink. His eyes were only half shut, and he could tell his face was locked with his mouth hanging open, a string of drool on his cheek. North was humming, some christmas carol Jack couldn't name (because what else did the man ever listen to seriously) Everything was normal, except he couldn't move. _It's just the medicine._ He reasoned. _I'll just go back to sleep, wake up when it wears off._

Then he heard the laugh, the one he'd last heard in Pitch's lair on the morning of that miserable Easter. The room seemed to convulse, and suddenly Pitch was there in front of him. The Boogieman clicked his fingers, and North slumped over his desk with the _crack_ of a broken neck.

"Well well well. What have we here?" he drawled, pacing a slow circle around the armchair. The fire guttered as he approached, and went out completely in his wake. Being as it was mid January, that left the room lit solely by a lamp on North's desk. Pitch stopped between Jack and the light, and with a sinuous movement straddled him, one hand pressing on his chest so hard he heard bones creaking. "The newest Guardian, trussed up by his own mind."

Jack tried to struggled, throw him off and grab the staff just at his feet, but all he could do was stare helplessly as Pitch's free hand raked through his hair. Blood oozed from the scratches, and to his eternal mortification Jack _moaned_. It was sick and twisted and wrong no matter how he looked at it, but even when Pitch was drawing blood he was damn sexy.

"Oh," he smirked, lowering his voice to that goddamned _purr_. "You like that?" he pulled razor-sharp nails down the side of Jack's face, and though now shadows bound him collarbone to waist Jack gasped slightly. Had he been able to, as fucked up as it was, he would've nodded. Blood was running into his eye and his heart was going a million miles an hour with terror, but still Pitch was sitting on a growing boner and fucking _smirking_.

There was a creak and heavy thuds, and Jack saw a Yeti march in. A white cloth was thrown over him, and he somehow knew that it was the sort people put over furniture in houses that wouldn't be used for a long time. He ached to scream, beg the Yeti to notice him, plead for help in fighting off Pitch, but the Boogieman only chuckled and pressed a finger to his frozen lips. "Hush, little Snowflake." he grinned wickedly as the Yeti marched on to pick up North and carry him out.

"Now we're alone." Pitch hissed, clammy hands sliding up under his hoodie. The shadows squeezed tighter preventing him from gasping or even moaning, and Jack could've sworn he felt a few ribs crack. "Time to have some fun."

 _This isn't fun!_ He wanted to scream, shove Pitch off of him and lock himself away in his room, but at the same time he ached for the older spirit's touch.

Pitch licked his lips, leaning in and biting down hard on Jack's neck. It left a ring of bloody dots around the hickey, and had he not been frozen solid Jack's back would've arced at Pitch pinching and rolling his nipples.   
It felt completely new, and when diamond-hard nails shredded his hoodie the lines of blood were his least concern. Pitch was even better with his mouth in this dream than he was in the others, and when his long, slender, calloused fingers dug into Jack's hips he lost it. Part of him was screaming to _flee flee flee_ , but it was quickly shrinking under the par that wanted those talented hands a bit lower than his hips.

Pitch seemed all too happy to oblige Jack's unspoken wish, his nails making short work of the immobile spirit's belt and slicing down the seams of his pants. The Nightmare King's sharp teeth and clever tongue disengaged from his nipple and moved lower, Pitch lapping at the scratches as he went. Pain, Jack was certain, was not meant to be arousing.

"Why look at you." Pitch purred, hot breath ghosting over the tip of Jack's penis. "Absolutely untouched." he leered up at the winter sprite, eyes glinting hard gold. "Stuck at the height of puberty for 300 years and you've never even touched yourself?" Pitch shook his head. "What an odd little one you are."

Jack's breathing hitched, and since he was unable to close his eyes he simply watched Pitch's bobbing head and struggled to breathe beyond what the shadows allowed for. Pitch pulled away just as Jack climaxed, and for just a second the young Guardian saw the face of his worst enemy splattered with white. Then everything changed, like switching from one photograph to another. Pitch was gone, the fire was re-lit, and there was a red woollen blanket tucked around his shaking shoulders. His chest heaved, and Jack drew his knees up to his chin. The blanket he pulled over his head and behind his back, trapping the fabric between his body and the armchair.

Pressing his face against his knees, he let sobs wrack his thin frame. There was something deeply wrong with him, something he could never tell anyone. Because if they knew, they'd leave him for sure, and if he had to repeat his 300 years of isolation... "I'd go mad." he chuckled humourlessly. "Or figure out how to die."

The door opened and shut, and in his rush to see if it North's death had also been a dream he managed to thoroughly tangle himself in the blanket and fall flat on his face. "Ow." he groaned against the floor, rolling back up onto his knees and pulling at the fabric until it sat around his shoulders like an oversized shawl. North was standing a few yards in front of him with a plate of food in one hand and a mug of hot cocoa in the other, grinning bemusedly.

"Did I wake you?" he asked with a smile, setting the food and drink on a small coffee table.

Jack's wide grin vanished in an instant and he shuddered, pulling the blanket tighter around himself. "No." he mumbled, taking the cocoa and sipping it. Most things hotter than 80F ranged from painful to deadly, but as soon as he'd learnt this North had developed a special cocoa just for him. It was minty, too, though that may have been from the candy-cane stirring spoons.

North frowned worriedly, sitting across he table from his young friend. "But that was Yeti medicine, and I gave you full dose. You should have slept all night."

Jack shuddered at the thought of being tormented by Pitch for a full night. "I'm glad it didn't." he muttered, grabbing a napkin to wipe his mouth with.

North leaned forward, resting an elbow on the table. "Just talk, Jack. You did not just come here for sleeping medicines."

Jack nodded, setting the drink down and pulling his knees up to his chest again. The blanket was more of a cloak than a shawl, really. "I've just got a little question for you, actually. I know Sandy and Bunny are older, but you're the one with a library."

North nodded, reaching across the coffee table to rest a hand on Jack's shoulder. "What is it you want to ask, Jack? You do not need to fear, I am your friend."

Jack picked up his cocoa and took another sip. "Was Pitch ever a pirate?"

North choked on a cookie, and after a minute of oesophagus-clearing coughs gave Jack a questioning look. "Did you not pay attention when Bunny was giving you-"

Despite the circumstances, Jack snorted. "You think Fun incarnate would actually _pay attention_ in a lecture?"

North gave Jack a look, then gave a heavy sigh. "Short version?"

"Please." Jack grinned, putting in effort to make it as innocent as possible.

"Yes, Pitch was once a pirate. A Captain, in fact. His ship was called the Nightmare Galleon, and it was run by the scum of the stars. They were called Nightmare Men and Shadow Pirates, and they roamed all of space looking for blood to spill." North shuddered. "Be glad you never fought them, Jack."

Jack nodded absently. The names and faces from his dreams didn't _seem_ like the scum of the sta- "Wait, run that bit about stars by me again?" his face crinkled in confusion. "Was this thing a rocket ship?"

North chuckled and shook his head. "Not as you think, but it was a space ship. I would tell you of the Constellations, but-"

"Yeah, not my thing." Jack muttered, standing and walking back to grab his staff. "Thanks for the cocoa, North. And the nap." he grinned, fixing his posture straighter. Now that he was standing, he could tell the brief dream and awful nightmare hadn't refreshed him at all. All they'd done was cycle more adrenaline through him and introduce a whole new form of nightmare.

"I'm overdue on the West Coast." he fibbed, resting the staff on his shoulder as he deliberately sauntered over to the window. "May I?" he asked, resting his hand on the window latch.

"Of course." North nodded, standing with grace that should not belong to a man of his size. "And remember, you are welcome to return any time."

Jack grinned and nodded, popping the window open and letting the wind snatch him up into the air. Soaring easily south, he slapped himself in the face to wake himself up a bit more. If he still wanted to in two days, he'd go and talk to Pitch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is what happens when I look at the fyeahcreepyshit tumblr page, and then google Sleep Paralysis. At midnight. In my basement bedroom.
> 
> To be perfectly clear, North was in the room until Jack thought he got covered like furniture. That's when North pulled a blanket up over him and went for dinner, which he came back from shortly after Jack properly woke up from the SP. Also, they're in North's office, not his private workshop with all the ice carvings.


	7. Chapter 7

Pitch paced back and forth in the main chamber of his Realm. He'd checked and double-checked every spirit, sprite, and cryptid with the power to force dreams or memories upon a being, examined anyone and everything that could manipulate time, and though he'd found quite a few of Frost's enemies and no shortage of his own, not a one of them had used their power on the youngest Guardian since the day he was inducted. "So who?" he muttered, brows drawing together. "Who would do this? Who _could_ do this?"

The NightMare he'd paused in front of nickered, rubbing her nose against his chest. He could sense her concern for his well-being, but brushed it away with a tense smile before resuming his pacing. He'd spoken with memory-altering spirits, and the last one of them to touch Jack had done it at the teen's own request some hundred years ago. He'd met with the planet's oldest inhabitants, things which predated his arrival by milennia and fellow spirits he'd known in his earliest years. Only Mother Nature had ever met the winter sprite, and that had been brief and sharp a few decades after his birth from the ice.

There was a rattle from above, then a loud clanging **crash** as two cages hit each other. A familiar scream set his heart racing, and as he caught Frost on a cloud of shadows and inert Nightmare Sand he realised he could still feel true fear. Sure he'd been worried near the end of his fight with the Guardians, but his NightMares had always been there to prevent any real harm from befalling him.

"Jackson, are you hurt?" he murmured, kneeling as the cloud dissipated to leave a familiar lanky frame sprawled out on the flagstone floor. He'd told himself countless times in the 300 years before the Easter Battle that the similarities were merely coincidence, but after witnessing Frost's nightmare he couldn't even see how he'd convinced himself that the sprite was anything other than his lover's clone.

"'pends." he groaned, levering himself up. The groggy expression was achingly familiar, though offset drastically by deep, deep bags under Jack's eyes. "What's hurt?"

Pitch chuckled, brushing back that one bit of fringe which could never be kept in place. Exactly the same, there was no doubt about it. "Did you damage anything when you fell?"

Jack shook his head, and Pitch scooped him up in both arms. The staff rested between Jack's shoulder and his chest, but aside from that it was no different from the times he'd had to carry Jackson to bed after the fool tried to out-drink one of the crew. "Good." he said quietly, resting his cheek against Jack's forehead. "You need rest, and I will ensure you get it if I have to battle Tsar Lunar himself."

Jack chuckled, nuzzling into Pitch's cloak. "'s silly." he mumbled. "Silly Pitchy." he chuckled again, and Pitch smiled.

"Would you like my bedroom in the Realm, or a place on the Galleon?"

Jack only snored quietly, and Pitch smiled with more warmth than he had in all the centuries he'd walked the skin of this planet. "Realm it is." he whispered, stepping through a shadow. The room they emerged into was opulent, but not in a flashy way. Three of the walls were smooth obsidian, draped with purple and blue velvet so dark it was only barely not black. The fourth wall and vaulted ceiling were the inner lining of an enormous geode, the crystals effortlessly imitating a magnificent sky. At the base of this, the crystals in the centre had been melted over an ancient bedframe wrought of a dead star. To the unaware eye, the king-sized hunk of metal seemed to be growing directly out of the wall. On the rare occasions he required rest, Pitch liked to think he was back out amongst the stars, surrounded by men and women who looked to him. And when he was exceptionally lonely he imagined that there was a slender young man at his side, blue eyes gleaming under a shaggy fringe of tarnished silver, an easy starlight smile stark against his grey skin, his merchant's-son jacket and trousers grown dark with Shadows and slightly ragged with extended wear. In his mind's eye the top button is always missing, and he knows it has fallen between the floorboards of his chambers, soon to emerge into the munitions store room below, where it will be discovered by Linia that evening.

Laying Jack out atop the silken jet sheets, Pitch smiles and sits next to him. He had almost forgotten how the teen looked before the Fever turned him, skin so pale it could pass for pure Starchild and hair as white as the armour of the Lunanoff High Guard. "My Mithrillian Boy." he murmured, brushing his fingers through Jack's hair. "More beautiful than a Firesong Hummingbird, and stronger than a Moonship's hull."

Jack twitched in his sleep and mumbled something unintelligible, his arms reaching out as if to grab something. Pitch smiled and stepped around to the other side of the bed, lying down and pulling Jack to his chest. The teen's skin was cold, but Pitch didn't much mind. It reminded him of deep space, of waiting by shipping routes and, inevitably, of Jackson curled against him just like this. Stick-legs curled loose, knees at Pitch's thighs, hands clutching the front of his robe. Reaching out, Pitch began running his fingers through Jack's hair. Of course this was a horrible idea, getting attached to a Guardian. As soon as Jack woke he'd be running for the exit, and Pitch didn't have the heart to restrain him.s

"I guess I'll have to wait and see, hmm?" he smiled tenderly. Frost was certainly not Jackson's exact reincarnation, but in his sleep the young spirit warmed up some, and if he forgot to feel the cold then Pitch could have one last night of pretending he'd not lost everyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops this wasn't supposed to be so sad... Damn you Pitch for having such a tragic backstory. If you can guess the prompt I referenced in here, you get a cookie :)
> 
> Next chapter, Jack's dreams from his first full night of sleep in a month.


	8. Chapter 8

Jackson grinned, tossing his sister up in the air. She shrieked with laughter, grabbing at his jacket when he caught her. “Higher! Higher!” she squealed, kicking her little legs.

“Jackson,” a sharp voice accosted. “what are you doing to Emilia?”

He groaned. He loved his mom, he really did, but sometimes she could be a right bore. “We was jus’ playin’, honest.” he whined, purposefully using the same drawl as his friends.

His mother’s eyes narrowed, steely blue under brows so white they were hardly even there. “Jackson Theoprastus Overland, had I wanted you to speak like that, I would have married a farmer.” She lifted her chin and gave him a disapproving look. “You are the son of an officer and a Guildsman, and I expect you to act like it. Now get back to your lessons.”

He pouted, holding Emilia up as she clung to his chest. “But history’s so _boring_! Can’t I have just a little bit longer to play with Emma?”

“Yeah!” Emma beamed, twisting to give their mom a gap-toothed grin. “Jack’s gonna teach me to beat the boys at marbles an’ swimin’!”

Mrs. Overland gave her children a reproachful look.

Jackson smiled hopefully. “Pleeeeeeeease?”

The tall, slender Virgo sighed. “I need to learn to say no to those faces.” she smiled. “You have one hour, then we’ll have lunch and it’s back to lessons.”

Jackson nodded and set Emilia down so he could give his mom a hug. “Thanks a million!”

“Thank you momma.” Emilia echoed, grabbing her brother’s hand and pulling him along.

“Be careful.” She called as they headed down the hill towards the small pond.

Jackson laughed, grabbing Emilia and swinging her up onto his shoulders. “We will.” he called back with a smile. The pond came up to his shoulders at the very deepest point, and he could swim like a fish to boot. No danger at all.

\-----

Jackson made a tight fist, nails biting into the heel of his palm. This was for his sister, so she would be able to go back to playing in the fields without constantly checking the skies for Fearlings. It certainly wasn't to escape the marriage his mother had arranged, not at all. The boy ahead of him, Kevin, the son of his fiance's cousin, stepped aside and nodded to the Lunar Guards as he passed them. Jackson exhaled slowly, stepping forward to the registry desk.

First was the retinal scan, then the blood test. He handed over his medical papers, and after a moment the woman smiled sadly at him. "Your sister will miss you, Jackson."

He took the purple slip with a nod. "Don't tell my mom about this. She doesn't want me following Dad's footsteps."

The woman smiled and shooed him away, towards the guards stationed outside the boarding ramp. Jackson consciously corrected his posture as he approached, squaring his shoulders as he nodded to the uniformed man and woman. The man gave him a wink, and Jackson stepped into the shuttle which would bear him to the training camp. Ten weeks there and he'd be assigned to a star-cruiser, sent out to hunt down Fearlings and protect planets against the Nightmare King.

Closing his eyes, he sat down and whispered a quick prayer to the gods. "Protect Mom and Emma." he breathed. "Keep them safe til Dad gets home."

\-----

Jackson laughed, elbowing the star-child who bunked under him. “Lighten up, glowstick.” He teased. “I thought you guys were supposed to be fun.”

“Most of us are.” He shrugged.

Jackson rolled his eyes. “That’s it, you’re joining us if I have to drag you by that stupid curl.“

The star-child made an offended face, but when he punched Jackson’s shoulder it was with a smile. “Just this once. And I refuse to have any of Jenkins’s ‘home-brew’. That stuff smells awful.”

“Whatever, buzz-kill.” Jackson retorted, hooking an arm around the silver-eyed teen’s neck and leading the way to the currently unused store-room where he and some of the other guys played Poker once a week. When they arrived the usual crew were already assembled, Elm Leeroy and Oswick seated in a lopsided triangle with cards in hand. Or paw, in Elm’s case.

“Did starshine finally give in?” Oswick grinned, grabbing the dark brown bottle from Elm and taking a swig as the Pooka pulled a small pile of coins towards him.

Jackson plopped down next to his friend and grabbed the bottle himself, taking a quick sip of the admittedly vile alcohol. “Had to headlock him half of the way here.” He grinned. “C’mon, deal us in.”

“You sure? I’m on a roll tonight.” Elm grinned, flicking cards expertly to the players.

Jackson sat, and after rolling his eyes the star-child did as well. “I won’t intrude for long.” The luminescent boy said calmly and quietly, as he said all things. “It was merely the fastest way to make him shut up.”

Leeroy laughed, his cheeks already flushed from the alcohol. “I like him.”

Jackson grinned and took another swig, longer this time. What was the point of drinking and gambling if you didn’t get at least a little drunk? “Are we gonna talk or play? I’ve got a really good feeling about tonight.” The buzz was already kicking in, and he was glad that most of his money was in his boot. He wouldn’t be able to get the laces undone when he was properly drunk.

Elm flicked the next card at Jackson’s face, and in the instant before he spoke the entire ship rocked.

“What was that?” Oswick yelped, scrambling to his feet, cards and money forgotten.

“We’re under attack.” The star-child said, eyes narrowing as he drew his crystal dagger. “Get yourself together and come on deck, we’ll need every hand.”

Then he vanished, half sprinting half flying out the door, and the remaining young soldiers looked at each other. Jack turned on his heel and sprinted for the weapons room. Sliding in behind a Taurus he recognized from back home, he grabbed the rifle that was handed to him and ran up on deck, glad for once that he wasn’t on a cannon crew. The battle was already raging, and it was unrefined chaos. His first shot hit a Shadow Pirate in the shoulder, and his second got the same one in the chest. Not even close to a good shot, but his bayonet across the burly Nightmare Man’s throat was more than enough to kill it dead properly. There was no strategy, no battle plan, it was kill or be killed and it got Jackson’s blood racing with something not quite fear but not quite joy.

After what felt like hours but was probably minutes, he saw it. One of the Nightmare Men was standing in front of the steering wheel and cutting down each soldier who came near, the gold of his coat and hat glinting in the starlight. The poor men must’ve run out of bullets. Checking his own gun, Jackson found he still had two shots. The plan that came to him was stupid, and probably influenced at least a little bit by the alcohol, but a crazy plan was better than none. The mast was simple enough to climb, once he got a leg up, and in not quite a minute he’d found a perch on the first mainstay. It took another minute to get the tall, thin Nightmare Man in his sights, and then Jackson’s jaw dropped.

If he hit, if by some miracle his bullet found its mark, he would be a legend. There, several dozen yards from the end of his gun, was the Nightmare King himself. “Gods, guide my aim.” He murmured, closing one eye and looking down the barrel at Pitch’s hat. Squeezing the trigger, he leapt to his feet and crowed when the Nightmare King fell. Normally, he would’ve grabbed onto the mast and started making his way down to rejoin the fight. But in most fights, he hadn’t drunk the equivalent to three shots of hard liquor beforehand.

His eyes widened, and the crow of triumph became a shout of alarm. The last thing that ran through his mind before he landed flat on his back was that he wasn’t afraid. He was exhilarated.

\-----

Jackson opened his eyes with a groan of pain. Sitting up, he rubbed his head as a slow grin spread across his face. He'd shot the Nightmare King! Who cared about a few bruises, he was a hero! Stumbling to his feet, he looked around at the deck. His smile vanished like water on Denari 1. The Captain of the Nightmare Galleon was directing his pirates in raiding the ship's stores. One of the Nightmare Men looked over at Jackson, and to his eternal shame the boy fainted dead away.

He woke again mere minutes later, and the first thing he saw this time was narrow golden eyes. "You." Pitch said, pulling Jackson up by the back of his jacket. "You are the one who had the gall to shoot me."

Jackson managed a grin. "Not bad, seeing how I was kinda drunk."

Pitch raised an eyebrow. Or at least, if he had eyebrows Jack knew one would've been raised. "Interesting." he murmured, running a nail down Jackson's face and inspecting the gunk which came off. "You are a resistant one." the Captain leaned forward, and Jackson couldn't help but meet his mesmerising eyes. "You're not a soldier. Not at heart." he breathed, sending shivers down Jackson's spine.

Jackson stumbled as he was released, and a pair of burly Shadow Pirates caught him by the arms.

"Take him aboard." Pitch commanded, straightening up and turning to walk away. His coat swished majestically, and Jackson shook off the thought that its cut was extremely flattering.

"What are you going to do to me?" he asked, letting the pirates tie his wrists firmly together.

Pitch looked over his shoulder with a smirk, and Jackson felt a sudden burst of fear and unexpected lust. "Why, we're press-ganging you of course. Welcome to the crew, Mister Overland."

\-----

Jack groaned, lifting a hand to rub at his eyes. He felt like he'd just slept for a week, which was of course impossible. Opening his eyes, he blinked in confusion. Those constellations didn't look quite right.

A narrow arm tightened around his waist, and the winter sprite looked to his side to see Pitch Black. The older spirit was sound asleep, and cuddled up to Jack as if the Guardian was a large pillow, or a teddy bear.

"Stay." Pitch mumbled, eyes half opening to give Jack a look which wavered between pleading and alluring. "You need to rest."

Jack could feel that he had slept properly for at least a little while, but Pitch was right. He was nowhere near 100% yet. And how bad could it really be, if this room was the only place he slept soundly?

"Alright." he grumbled, flopping back down.

Pitch smiled drowsily, and Jack let himself drift back off, this time into a sleep without dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Neither of them will remember this exchange in the morning, but dear gods this is coming to an end! I'd say this could hit 15 chapters if I really stretched it out, but it'll more likely be another two or three, possibly with an epilogue.


	9. Chapter 9

Jack woke slowly, feeling rested and refreshed for the first time in over a month. His drowsiness wasn't that of a disrupted slumber, but that of a rest which had been pleasant and peaceful. He stretched, and that was when he took stock of his surroundings. The walls were jagged crystal with flecks of white, like the starry sky, and towards his feet the spikes smoothed out into sheets of shiny black stone and dark velvet curtains. Then he looked at himself, the silken sheets he laid on top of and the dark arm wrapped around his waist.

Turning his head, he followed the narrow appendage to the body it belonged to. Pitch Black's head rested on the pillow next to his, and for a few seconds Jack stared uncomprehendingly and the peaceful expression on the Boogieman's face. Then the full weight of his situation hit him like a truck full of bricks, and he let out a blood-curdling screech. Pitch startled awake, falling off the bed as Jack leapt to the air and perched in a corner to find the exit. Where was the god damned door? Why didn't the room have a door?

"Jack?" Pitch called, looking around before looking up. "Jack!" the Nightmare King _smiled_ , and Jack shivered at the sight of it. The dreams felt like a distant memory now, a hallucination of his overtired mind. To see Pitch looking so concerned made his stomach twist into knots.

"Just make a door, and let me go." he said sternly. "I won't bother you again."

Pitch shook his head. "I can't just make stone bend to my will, Jackson."

Jack bared his teeth in a snarl. "That's not my name!" he snapped, leaping to the floor and pointing his staff at Pitch's chest. He felt much better now, maybe even good enough to freeze Pitch so solidly the older spirit would have to wait for it to thaw. Of course, that was provided Pitch didn't give him that kicked puppy look. "Call me by that one more time, and we'll see how black your blood is."

Pitch held up his hands, his face a mask of betrayal. Jack couldn't help but wonder what cause the Boogieman had to feel betrayed. He wasn't Jackson, he was Jack. "I can only take other people through a shadow if they are in contact with me."

"Bullshit." Jack snapped. "You dropped me through a shadow the very first time I came to your Realm."

"I was at the height of my power then, Jack. You overestimate the extent of my recovery. And regardless, I'm not going to take you from this room until we've had a little chat."

Jack bristled despite the part of him that cheered. The last time Pitch had cornered him for a 'little chat' it had ended with Easter being lost. No amount of explanation for his dreams would be worth a repeat of that. "What are you planning?"

"Nothing, Jack. You have my word."

"Right, like the word of the Boogieman means anything." Of course, he could never say out loud that the word of Captain Black meant everything.

Pitch drew himself up straight. "I am the Nightmare King, Jack Frost. You would do well to accept my word as oath."

Jack rolled his eyes, hopping up to sit on top of a book case filled with books from the Golden Age. Their covers were blackened from sitting in shadow, but the titles embossed in alien scripts still shone tarnished silver and gold. "So, that's the deal? We talk, you take me back up top, we go our separate ways and stay out of each others' hair."

Pitch nodded, his face pensive. "Essentially."

Jack leaned back against the cool stone wall, crossing his legs just in case Pitch used his stupid sexy bedroom eyes or voice. After all, they were in a bedroom. "Alright. Shoot away."

\-----

Pitch sighed, walking over to his reading chair and sinking into it. "What I tell you is the truth, and nothing but. You have seen my past, the life I led with your previous incarnation. I have no reason to lie."

The winter sprite scowled and crossed his arms, and Pitch tasted just the littlest bit of fear. Fear that the nightmares were more than simple manifestations of his unconscious mind. "You've been creeping on my dreams?"

Pitch shook his head. "None but the one which I inadvertently triggered."

"The one where I died?"

Pitch nodded. "Whatever magic was upon you must have been confused by my presence. It showed you the part of Jackson's story which I never knew, the part I feared."

"You? Afraid of something?" Jack scoffed. "I thought you were supposed to be Fear embodied or something."

Pitch nodded. "Indeed I am, but being master of a planet's fear does not mean having mastery of your own worries. I feared that Jackson was one of the mindless wraiths I commanded in my early years on this rock, but even more I worried he had died."

Jack blinked. "And he died alone, without you there to take away his fear."

Pitch nodded, controlling his breathing until the tightness in his chest went away. "When I first saw you, Frost, I thought it couldn't possibly be true. I told myself it had been too long, that once a being was infected the evil would never leave. You are too pure, you have never killed, have never known the touch of shadow upon your heart." he traced around the scar in his chest, where Jackson's bullet had pierced his heart. Had he been this weak at that time, he would very likely have been ended by that shot. Truly remarkable, for a drunken man.

Shaking his head, he exhaled slowly. "But after what happened the other day, I cannot deny it. You are Jackson, born again outside of my reach. I cannot taint you, or stain you, and you cannot purify me. In Antarctica, I thought to know you better, I was foolish enough to hope I could make you into a version of him. Now I know better, and you are a Guardian besides."

Jack radiated sympathy, laced with no small bit of anxiety. Pitch couldn't tell what about, it wasn't strong enough for that and he'd be damned another thousand eternities before he toyed with Jack's fear again.

"So now we both know." he said, standing and smoothing down his robe. "You and I were once one, but you have chosen the path I once diverted you from. Virtue, and light, the way you would have found as a soldier had I not wrenched you from it." he strode over to the wall and pulled up an arched doorway of shadow. If he left now, Frost would have no choice but to remain here as his prisoner. He could remove the Guardians of their newest member and take Frost as his own, whether he was wanted or not. But of course, such an act would be impossible now that he saw Jackson in Frost's every move. He could feel Jack's anxiety, much stronger now as the spirit padded across the floor, and when cool arms wrapped around his waist his tenuous grip on the shadow portal slipped.

"Funny thing about those dreams." Jack whispered into Pitch's shoulder. "I can remember things I didn't see." his cool hands crept upwards, tracing the edge of Pitch's robe. "And I feel everything he felt."

Pitch shivered as Jack rested a hand over the old scar, the other one beginning to travel back down the exposed skin of his chest. "Jack, did you not understand? We would destroy each other." Pitch gasped slightly at the end of his sentence. Jack had un-clasped his robe and was tracing aimless patterns just above his waistband.

Jack hummed quietly. "Well, the way I see it." he grinned against Pitch's shoulder. "If you can't taint me, that makes me one of the Immune, right?" he stood on his tiptoes to nip and Pitch's neck. Right where his collar had always hidden the marks Jackson would leave. "And if I'm immune, there's no problem."

Pitch shuddered, highly aware of Jack pressed against him. Keeping control of himself was extremely difficult when Frost just turned around and did this, completely contradicting everything he'd done since waking up. "You're a Guardian, I'm the Boogieman." he pointed out desperately. "It'd never work."

Jack chuckled, pressing closer to Pitch so the Nightmare King was trapped quite soundly between the Guardian of Fun and the wall of his own bedroom. "But I'm a Guardian," he purred, pressing his palm flat to Pitch's abdomen. "If I say you're a good guy, then you're a good guy."

Pitch let his forehead rest against the wall, his breath forming little cloudy patches on the utterly smooth obsidian. When had the room become so cold, and why was that only making it harder to think straight? "Are you sure?" he panted, giving up on maintaining his composure as Jack moved both his hands to removing the cloak.

"Absolutely." Jack grinned, pulling the cloak off as slowly as he could. "Captain Black."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wrote this in class, so the smut (finally!) will be next chapter. And I promise you, it'll be tender, loving, kinky, _kinky_ smut ;3 I do love writing these two.


	10. Chapter 10

Despite himself, Pitch moaned quietly as Jack palmed him through the thin fabric of his pants. He’d not bothered to indulge himself in such a way since landing on this planet, and it showed now in the speed at which Jack was able to arouse him. “There is a bed, you know.” he said between heavy breaths.

“Mm, nah.” Jack grinned, nipping gently at the newly exposed skin of his shoulders. “I always had this fantasy, you know. Fucking you against a wall. Well, at least it’s been a repeating theme in my dreams.”

The robe fell completely away, and Pitch gasped quietly as the younger spirit set to pulling down his pants with slim, cold fingers. “You do have lube, right?”

Pitch shook his head. He’d never had need of it, so he’d never bothered to acquire any.

Jack hummed worriedly. “You do like it rough, right?”

Pitch chuckled. “I’m not so weak as to have completely lost control of the shadows, Jack.”

“And?”

Pitch rolled his eyes, straightening up and turning to face the youngest Guardian. “That means,” he purred, stepping forward to grab Jack’s wrists with one hand and his hip with the other, “That I still have the upper hand.” their shadows opened under them, and Pitch pinned Jack to the bed with ease.

Jack made a startled sound as gravity switched directions on him without warning, a sound Pitch was quite familiar with, and he smiled down at the slender winter sprite. “You’d be amazed.” he whispered in Jack’s ear. “How very many things shadows are good for.”

Pitch flicked his tongue out, running it along the frost-webbed shell of Jack’s ear so the teen moaned, hands clenching into fists. “Not fair.” He moaned as Pitch pulled the hoodie up an inch at a time.

“Oh, hush.” Pitch smiled, pulling back to observe the pale flesh he was exposing. “You’ll have your turn.”

“Just hurry uuuuup.” He whined, arching up into Pitch’s touch.

“No.” Pitch smiled, drawing together some Nightmare Sand to bind Jack’s wrists together. A strand ran from the cuffs to either corner of the bed, and as soon as the pale-skinned sprite was firmly bound he moved both his hands down to Jack’s chest.

“Meanie.” Jack pouted, tugging experimentally at the chains. For sand, it sure felt strong. And soft.

Pitch chuckled, pulling the hoodie up over Jack’s head and leaving it to rest on his arms. Ice immediately began crawling over the soft cotton, and he sat up on his knees to survey the winter sprite’s bared chest. Exactly the same amount of muscle tone as he remembered, and almost starchild-pale. “Beautiful.” he murmured, tracing his fingers lightly down sides he knew to be sensitive.

Jack’s cheeks glistened with thick frost, and his heart beat like a tiny bird under Pitch’s palm. “Wha-”

Pitch cut the younger spirit’s question short by laying down and nipping at one icy nipple. It was a bit like sucking on a small ice cube, but much more rewarding. Jack arced up against the firm hand on his hip, and Pitch fumbled with the belt buckle for a good few seconds before growing irritated and simply pulling it off, the leather wisping into shadow as it passed through Jack’s body and landing against the wall with a small clank.

“Now who’s impatient?” Jack gasped, dissolving back into moans shortly after when Pitch moved his mouth to the other side of the Guardian’s chest.

The grey-skinned spirit grinned, pushing the leather pants down as slowly as he could manage. As soon as they got to Jack’s knees he went back to kneeling, pulling them all the way off one leg at a time. “No underwear?” he smirked, raising a non-existent eyebrow.

Jack shrugged. “Never bothered anyone before.” He grinned rakishly, wiggling his narrow hips. “I thought we were going to be doing something fun, Captain.” he said quietly, eyes half-lidded and pupils dilated wide.

Pitch felt a quick flare of jealousy. Jack was _his_ and his alone. No other deserved to know the little secrets of his pale, perfect body. A cool foot rubbed up his calf yanked him from his thoughts, and Pitch looked down to see Jack with a worried expression. “Dude, it was a joke.”

Pitch calmed down immediately, trailing his fingers down the familiar line from Jack’s ear down and across his jaw. “My apologies.” He murmured, laying back down between the smaller spirit’s legs.

Jack smiled fondly, leaning into Pitch’s touch. “Actually, it was kinda hot.” he winked.

"You are impossible." Pitch grinned, nuzzling Jack’s shoulder. Trailing tiny kisses up the winter sprite’s neck, he nipped at his earlobe just hard enough to draw blood. Jack moaned, tugging at the chain which kept his hands right at the head of the bed, and Pitch smirked. "And here I thought I was supposed to be the impatient one." he breathed, pulling away only enough to admire the mark he'd left.

"Enough fucking foreplay." Jack moaned, opening his eyes to give Pitch a pleading look. "Please, Captain?" his lips curled up just slightly at the end, and Pitch grinned viciously.

"Now that's what I like to hear." he purred, shadows gathering around his fingers. Going back to kneeling he brought his hand down from Jack's chest, inserted a single digit, and hooked it. Jack moaned loudly, and Pitch smirked at the ice crawling over the young Guardian's body.

"Pitch. Please." Jack gasped, arching against the older spirit's firm hand on his hip.

Pitch smirked and inserted a second finger, stretching the teen and making sure his entrance was absolutely covered in oily darkness. Jack's moans were the loudest sound in the room, and Pitch bit his lip to keep it that way. The third finger only made Jack louder, and Pitch chuckled breathlessly. "Three hundred years, and you never did take a partner." he mumbled.

Jack opened his eyes halfway, and whatever breath had been left in Pitch left him in a hurry. There was an alien beauty in the winter sprite's face, exaggerated even as slightly as it was by the accumulation of ice. He looked almost nothing like Jackson, save the raw lust of his gaze, and that only made him more attractive.

"And it'll be another hundred before you actually put your dick in me at this rate." Jack tried to sound snappish and commanding, but it was ruined utterly when Pitch curled his fingers and pressed against something that made the white-haired spirit see bright black.

"You want it?" Pitch asked quietly, pressing on Jack's prostate again, his breaths ragged and deep.

"Yes." Jack moaned, hips still pinned by Pitch's hand. "Captain, please." he gasped as Pitch withdrew his hand.

The shadows did not follow his hand, and he gently hooked Jack's knees over his shoulders without leaving little grey stains on the pale, perfect skin. "This will hurt." he warned gently.

"Don't care." Jack shuddered, ice forming on his skin in sporadic bursts. " _Please_ , Captain."

Pitch smiled fondly, carefully placing himself at Jack's entrance and pushing in slowly. The teen screamed once, and Pitch bit down again on Jack's pale shoulder. Not quite hard enough to break the skin, but hard enough that the hickey he left was ringed by deep impressions of his teeth.

"I'm good." Jack breathed after a minute, resting his cheek against Pitch's.

The dark spirit smirked and nipped at Jack's neck, setting a slow rhythm. "Oh, good doesn't even begin to cover it." he purred right in the teen's ear, relishing the moan it earned him. "So cold, and tight." he breathed, ducking his head to leave a third mark on Jack's shoulder. He _would_ not climax first, but it would be close. His heart thundered in his ears, and the acoustics of his bedroom weren't helping at all, amplifying Jack's already loud moans so they filled the entire chamber.

Jack screamed as Pitch brushed up against his prostate, and that was the final straw. He turned his head and buried his face in Pitch's neck, gasping against grey skin as his hips bucked.

Pitch gasped as Jack tightened around him, cold seed spurting against his chest. His own climax came only seconds later, and Jack cried out again in ecstasy as the oily shadows were joined by thick, hot semen. In those moments of utter ecstasy, Pitch broke the one rule he'd set for himself the moment he brought Jack to this room. He turned his head and kissed the young Guardian. It was sloppy and wild and just a bit desperate, and Jack obviously didn't know what he was doing with his tongue, but even with their teeth knocking together and constantly pulling apart for quick, gasping breaths, it felt perfect.

Jack stilled first, and Pitch pulled out of him just seconds later. The cuffs dissolved, and Pitch gently pulled the hoodie off the final few inches. It landed with a clink on the floor, and Jack curled into Pitch's embrace. "Wow." he chuckled. "And to think, I could've had _this_ for three hundred years."

Pitch smiled lazily and ran a thumb over the small accumulation of ice on Jack's cheek. " _We_ could have had this." he corrected, giving the winter sprite a brief kiss.

Jack smiled back, and the ice crumbled into snowflakes. "I know the other Guardians wouldn't like it, but... maybe we could do this again sometime?"

"Nothing would delight me more, Frost." if he was being perfectly honest with himself, Pitch had been lost from the moment Jack smiled at him.

Jack grinned and cuddled closer, nuzzling Pitch's collarbone, and the Nightmare King wondered how long it would be before Frost grew bored of him. Seasonals were infamously fickle spirits, and he'd never known of a relationship with one that lasted more than two or three years. But if he'd broken the most important rules already, might as well throw out the rule book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was one of those times when I was writing the story, but had almost no control over what the characters were actually doing. These two little shits are impossible, I swear. /flips everything. Also, please don't ask me when Pitch's pants came off, I'm not actually sure.


	11. Chapter 11

Jack woke with a contented smile on his face, stretching leisurely. He ached, but in a good way, and he finally felt rested! Turning over, he smiled at Pitch's face. He looked so calm in his sleep, peaceful in fact. Leaning forward, Jack pressed a chaste kiss to the Nightmare King's cheek before wriggling out from under the covers. His clothes were scattered about the room, and he dressed slowly.

"Leaving already?"

He fastened his belt buckle and turned to face Pitch, crossing to the bed and sitting on it. "Yeah. Snowdays don't happen on their own, after all." he grinned.

"Oh." Pitch said quietly, face darkening.

Jack pouted in return. He was Fun personified, and he'd be damned before letting Pitch mope in his presence. "Why the long face, Boogieman?" he elbowed Pitch. "Thinking of locking me out?"

"What ever do you mean, Frost?"

"Well I was gonna come back here next time I needed to sleep. Maybe have some fun, but if you don't want me t-"

"No!" Pitch said quickly, and if it had been any other spirit Jack would've thought them desperate. But this was Pitch, and even the Pitch from his memories had never been desperate.

"No, I will not be locking you out." he said smoothly, summoning clothing right onto his body. Cheater.

"Well then, if you make a door I'll get on my way." he grinned, flouncing over to grab his staff.

Pitch sighed and snapped his fingers, a door appearing in the wall. "That should let you into a hallway. Go right, then take the third left and go up the next set of stairs. You should recognise the area then."

"Right, third left, up the stairs?" Jack scrunched up his face. "Sorry, I'm no good with directions. Could you just lead me out? I mean, I could handle the NightMares myself but I bet you wouldn't want the rest of your herd wiped out." he smiled sheepishly.

Pitch's heart leapt in his chest, though he kept his face schooled into a mask of calm. To let Jack know how fully he'd fallen for the teen would only shorten their time further. After all, the Winter Court was the most capricious and cold-hearted of the four, but also the one most inclined to games. If he ceased to be a challenge, Jack would surely leave without a second thought. "Simple instructions." he grumbled for show, sweeping past Jack and into the hallway.

Jack laughed and bounced after Pitch, patches of curly frost blooming in his wake. "So, I was thinking." he chattered as they turned left into a winding hall. "I can't really navigate indoors for shit."

"Your point?" Pitch said irritatedly.

"Well, I was thinking maybe we could meet in your room with all the cages next time, and we could go from there?" he twirled his staff, resting it across his shoulders. If Pitch turned this down, he'd probably end up just dozing under the Globe. Assuming he could even get into the Realm, next time.

Pitch was silent until they'd nearly reached the top of the stairs, carefully constructing his response. "Fine, but I can't simply hang about in one room until the next time you get bored. I will be in that room between 8:30 and 9 PM, Mountain Time."

"Mountain Time?" Jack parroted, making apuzzled face. "What's that?"

Pitch sighed. It was so easy to forget that spirits such as the Seasonals had no need of timezones, unlike himself and Sanderson. "It is a timezone, Frost." he said slowly, trying to project the air of an adult speaking to a particularly dimwitted child. "If you cannot keep track, I would suggest getting a watch."

Jack stuck out his tongue. "Nyeh. I'll figure it out."

Pitch chuckled, walking down a hallway which was more of a tunnel. "Or you'll simply go and take a wristwatch from the timezone."

Jack ignored the jab, looking around curiously. I know this place." he smiled. "I bet I could reverse-navigate from here!" he turned around, as if to run back to the stairs and seek out the bedroom again, but Pitch's arm across his chest kept him in place.

"Ah, ah, ah." the Nightmare King wagged a finger in Jack's face. "You said you had a job to do, did you not?"

Jack groaned, but crossed his arms and stalked ahead of Pitch into the main room. They'd fought in here just last Easter, but it seemed so different now. Probably because the floor was bare of Tooth Boxes. The pattern of shadows on the floor was actually pretty cool. Pausing in front of the tunnel he'd come in by, Jack turned on his heel and stretched up on his toes to give Pitch a quick kiss. "See ya in a few days?"

Pitch smiled, stepping closer to give Jack a kiss in return. "I look forward to it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short. I'm dealing with some shit IRL and it's left me pretty drained. Yeah this aint much, but I felt a morning-after scene was needed and then I just kinda ran dry. Next chapter I'll try an work in some Guardians, maybe sow some suspicion and whatnot.


	12. Chapter 12

Jack fidgeted in his seat, only half paying attention to the meeting. When the world was at peace, they only met four times a year for official Guardian business. He thought the meetings were utterly dull, but afterwards was the only time North shared his alcohol aside from the annual Christmas party and seeing the others hammered was always good for a laugh. This time, however, he'd totally spaced and gone to see Pitch three nights ago. True, he could go longer without sleep now, but he knew that the Nightmare King would be waiting for him. The winter sprite flicked his watch and muttered darkly. Of course the battery would die today. He should've grabbed a new one after their last night together.

"Frostbite?"

Jack startled, earning a chuckle from Tooth. "Huh?"

Bunny rolled his eyes. "North asked if any of us have seen Pitch since last meeting."

Jack opened his mouth, then shut it and shook his head. "I see the NightMares pretty regularly, but there haven't been any herds, or any sign of Pitch."

Tooth nodded her agreement, and Jack frowned slightly. It didn't sit right with him, lying to the Guardians like this, but what choice did he have? If the truth ever came out he'd probably lose his Guardianship, and then Pitch would be his only company. And as unexpectedly sweet as the Nightmare King could be, he would rather have people he could talk to. The rest of the meeting went without incident, but Jack couldn't focus on what was being said. His mind kept wandering, and every few minutes he had to scratch ice off of the face of his watch. Two hours to meeting time, one fifty six, one fifty one...

"Got somewhere ta be?" Bunny smiled, elbowing the youngest Guardian. "You knew we'd be meetin' today."

Jack wiped at the beads of ice on his cheeks before they could spread into frost. "Um, yeah. I was a bit distracted when we said we'd be meeting today."

"We?" Bunny grinned mischievously. "Has our little Frostbite got 'imself a little friend?"

There was no stopping the spread of frost across his cheeks this time. "Bunny!"

"What?" the Pooka chuckled, holding up an arm to stop Jack's barehanded strikes. "Just a simple question."

"Yeah, Jack." Tooth chimed in with an amused smirk. "Did you find yourself a girlfriend?"

"Um, not exactly?" Jack squirmed in his seat, glancing at his watch. One hour and fourty eight minutes. If he left in 20 he could just barely make it without causing impromptu blizzards and cold fronts along the way.

"Is boyfriend?" North smiled warmly. "Good for you, Jack. Is nice to hear you are making relationships."

Jack pulled his hood up and covered his face with his hands. "Oh my god, can I- can I just, um, go? We're kinda supposed to be meeting later, and he gets tetchy when I'm late."

Sandy snickered, forming a mostly shapeless figure with a snowflake on a leash. The snowflake turned into a dog, and Jack glared at the Dreamweaver. "You, shut up."

Sandy held out his hands in the universally recognised "I said nothing" gesture, though it was undermined by his devious little smirk.

"I hate you." Jack scowled at Sandy, who laughed silently. "You're worse than P-" he bit his tongue. He'd almost said "worse than Pitch", which would mean something very different to the others than it did to him. "Worse than my boyfriend."

The Guardians gave him an odd look, and he glared at them. "What? He can be a pain in the ass, and Sandy- ya know what, never mind."

Bunny gave him a disbelieving look. "Seriously, mate?"

"I-" Jack frowned. "You know what, I'm done with you guys. See ya in a few months, I've got a hot date."

Tooth giggled. "Feel free to swing by my Palace any time and tell me all about it~"

Jack covered his face and groaned into his hands for a moment. "Done, I swear." he grumbled, picking up his staff. "See you in a few months, guys."

"See you then, Frostbite." Bunny smirked.

Jack felt his ears crackle with ice, and tugged his hood down over his face. Maybe he'd get Pitch help him with pranking Bunny sometime, as payback.

\-----

The moment Jack was out the window, Bunny stopped chuckling and frowned pensively. "Something's not right with that kid."

"Ah, is no need to be so hard on him, Bunny." North grinned. "Is just young love."

"That's just tha thing, North." Bunny said slowly. "It's not. Jack's hopin' desperately, and not the sort of young-lovers hope."

"Bunny, enough." Tooth frowned sternly. "If Jack's worried about something, it's probably none of our business. They're probably just going through a rough spot."

Sandy chuckled silently, a handful of symbols flashing rapidly over his head.

"Sandy is right." North nodded. "Jack is big boy, strong enough to take care of himself."

"Yeah, Bunny." Tooth smiled mischievously. "I'd worry about Jack's boyfriend, if I were you. Dealing with Jack's endless pranks? I pity him and I don't even know who he is."

"That's what worries me, thought." Bunny snapped, frowning. "Why would he stop in the middle of the bloke's name, unless he was hiding something?"

Sandy made a face, then wiped it blank, then added a mask before putting it in a little curtained stall next to a snowflake.

"Privacy?" Tooth guess, and Sandy nodded with a satisfied smile.

"Bunny, you do not need to be worrying over Jack. If he does not want to tell us now, he will tell us when he is ready." North nodded and picked up a paper from the table, signalling the conversation was over. "Ach, Sandy, can you explain this?"

Bunny let himself get sucked back up into the minor chaos which was a Guardian Meeting, but en-route back to the Warren that evening he couldn't shake the feeling that something was very wrong. Of course he couldn't exactly ask Jack if he was dating the Boogeyman, the little trog would deny it until his dying day. Perhaps once Easter had passed, he could stake out Jack's lake and watch for him? Hopefully there was some other way, but then again, nothing would come of his speculations until Easter had been handled. Looking around his home, he smiled slightly. Finally, it was time to start the preparations in earnest.

\-----

Jack sighed happily, nuzzling against Pitch's collarbone. "That was amazing." he grinned, pressing a kiss to the Nightmare King's neck.

Pitch smiled lazily, carding his fingers through Jack's hair. He never would get tired of this, the smaller spirit's tender smile and the ease with which they fit together, like pieces of a broken puzzle. "Yes, it was." he whispered, tracing letters of High Viri in the ice which was slowly soughing from Jack's cheeks. It had been months, and the youngest Guardian still kept to his word. They had yet to do anything outside of the grand bedroom, sexual or otherwise, and he was starting to wonder if Jack was ashamed of him. Why had Jack even stayed with him in the first place? With a pretty face like that he could've had any number of spirits wrapped around his perfect slender fingers, and yet here they were, almost three months into what could technically be called a relationship.

"Hey." Jack said softly, reaching up to touch Pitch's cheek. "What's on your mind?"

Pitch took the hand and kissed it, one finger at a time, before answering. "Just how lovely you look, Jack. And how lucky I am to have you."

Jack snickered.

"Did I say something amusing?" Pitch smiled slightly.

"Just, you think **you're** the lucky one?" he cuddled closer to Pitch's chest, eyelids drooping slightly. "I've got a Pirate King who's powerful enough to rival Mother Nature, and he just happens to be the sweetest man I've ever had the pleasure of knowing." he paused, making a thinking face. "And, ya know, you're not too bad in bed either." he grinned wide and laughed quietly.

Pitch chuckled, hiding his face in Jack's hair so his ugly purple blush wouldn't be seen. What higher power had deemed him worthy of a second chance with someone so perfect? Perhaps next time he would ask about doing something together outside of this room.But not now, when the whole of the world was so perfect and _right_. "Is there any particular reason you're acting so saccharine?"

Jack tensed at the query, and Pitch's heart fell to his stomach. Was this it? So soon after they'd found each other again?

"Actually, there was this thing we were talking about at the meeting. General Winter is amassing all the cold-based spirits he can grab, and we need to find out why, so..."

"You're going in as a sleeper agent." Pitch said numbly.

"Well I was just gonna say spy, but that works too." Jack grinned playfully, but the smile was gone in a blink. "I wasn't actually sure if I should tell you or not, but..." he sighed, creating frost patterns on Pitch's chest that melted in mere seconds. "If I went awol for a few months without notice, you'd totally kick my ass when I got back."

Pitch blinked, glad that Jack couldn't see his shock. Back? A Winter Sprite going to be with his own kind, and then _returning_ to his partner? It was more likely for them to band together and create a new Ice Age against Mother Nature's will. The Nightmare King forced a smirk. "Indeed. But, since you did tell me, how about we strike a deal?"

Jack chuckled, pulling away to give Pitch a skeptical look. "Me, strike a deal with the Boogieman?"

"Yes. Come here at the usual time when you get back from the mission, and we'll make up for the lost time."

The winter sprite grinned mischievously. "That sounds inviting."

"Well, it is an invitation." Pitch smiled back, kissing Jack on the nose. Perhaps after the mission was over, he'd tell Jack that it was okay to visit him any time, for more than just sex. A standing invitation to his Realm, like how humans exchanged house keys. Come to think of it... "Jack, do you have a home? And not the Pole, but a place of your own."

Jack nodded. "Yeah, down in Antarctica. But i share it with a bunch of other ice spirits, so there's never any privacy."

Pitch winced sympathetically and nodded. "Well, you need to go, but remember. You are never unwelcome in my Realm."

"Yeah." Jack grinned, kissing Pitch on the nose. "See ya in a few months."


	13. Chapter 13

Jack propped himself up with a groan, quickly taking stock of his surroundings. Ice walls, they hadn't left the General's stronghold yet. Open sky, they were in the courtyard. _Blue_ open sky, they'd won.

"Whoa there, Frostbite." Bunny said with a smile, gently grabbing Jack's shoulders. "You got a pretty bad knock on the head, there. Rest a bit."

The winter sprite nodded, forcing a smile. "Only for a bit, though."

"What, got a hot date later?"

"More or less." Jack grinned smugly. "Bet you can't say you've got a hot boyfriend."

Bunny scowled. "But I _can_ say you need a day of bed rest."

"Is good call, Bunny." North grinned, leaning sitting down next to Jack on the ground. "Jack, you would not want to have broken arm. Makes very hard to throw snowballs."

Jack looked at the arm in question, and tapped the splint with his fingers. Ice spread across it like fire through dead brush, and in seconds he had a smooth cast of crystal clear ice. "There, broken limb fixed." he smiled, pushing himself up into a sitting position. His ribs ached, probably from the same punch that had thrown him into the wall and knocked him out in the first place, and he raised a hand to touch them. Nothing was broken, but he'd probably have some impressive bruises later.

"Jack." Tooth's voice was stern, almost motherly, and the newest Guardian flinched slightly.

"Yes?"

"You've got a broken arm, bruised ribs, salt burns up to both knees, a concussion, and Bunny only just fixed your dislocated shoulder."

He gave an impressed whistle, and pushed himself to his feet. His soles burned like fire, and Wind obligingly picked him up half a centimetre. "Well then, thanks for telling me that. Maybe I can even convince my boyfriend the battle wasn't too bad."

The three Guardians looked at each other, then at Sandy, who was bobbing in a corner examining something. Jack's stomach dropped. "I was only out for, like, three minutes, right?"

"Ten, more like." Bunny corrected.

"Are you not telling me something?"

Sandy bobbed over and dropped what he was looking at between them. Shards of a broken ice sword, with Nightmare Sand frozen to the edges of the cracks. Jack's eyes flicked up, and his heart followed his stomach as Sandy showed a very familiar profile, then a profile of General Winter, then several weapons in quick succession.

"You think Pitch was helping the General?" Tooth asked, picking up one of the weapon shards.

"Would not be first time he has acted from shadows." North rumbled.

Jack tightened his grip on his staff. He couldn't defend Pitch, not without raising questions, but he couldn't risk them deciding to seek out the former pirate. "Do we know he was acting from the shadows?" he asked, picking up the hilt and running his hand over the break. "I didn't see him during the battle, but did he show up after Winter threw me?"

The Guardians looked at each other questioningly.

"I saw something dark moving, figured it was North or Tooth."

"I thought it was you." Tooth frowned at the Pooka.

"I also believed it was Bunny." North nodded. "Then that settles it, we will go and find Pitch, ask him how he knew battle was today, and why he came."

Jack swallowed hard. He really hated lying, but he didn't have a choice. "You guys can do that, I've got a boyfriend to check on." he forced a cheeky grin. "Poor sap is probably worried sick about me."

The Guardians looked at him skeptically, but Jack shot up into the sky before they could stop him. "Wind, where's the nearest entrance to Pitch's lair?"

The air around him howled, and flung him towards the mountains. He crashed through a cave above a small settlement, and came out into the familiar-as-breathing room of cages. "Pitch!" he yelled, looking at the floor of the room where his lover was usually waiting.

"Up here, Jack."

The winter sprite's head whipped up, and he shot up to hover in front of the cage. "You need to seal off all entrances to your lair, and you need to do it _now_."

"What for?"

Jack couldn't see Pitch's face, but he would've bet the Nightmare King was confused. "The Guardians saw you at the battle, you dumbass. They found a sword with your sand on it, and now they're coming to interrogate you about it."

Pitch uncurled with surprising speed. "But I wasn't even attacking them!"

Jack grinned. "I knew it. But they still think you're a bad guy, so they won't want to believe that you could help them with anything."

Pitch's frown softened, and he slipped from the cage to sit on top of it. "Not even if I tell them that it was for my own purposes? Had Winter won, I would be deprived of my food source."

"Please, Pitch. Just seal up the entrances they know about."

"I've got a better idea." he smiled, cupping Jack's cheek. "I remove the portal from our room, and we wait there until they've gone."

Jack blinked, then ducked his head and wiped at the frost spreading across his cheeks. "Stop coming up with the good plans."

"You know what my favourite part of this plan is, though?" Pitch smiled, carding a hand through Jack's hair.

"What?" Jack swallowed, leaving slightly into the touch.

"The Guardians are quite persistent. Which means I will have several days to fit in all of our catching up."

Jack swallowed hard, his fantasies from the past month coming to mind. "That sounds..." he swallowed again. When had he seated himself on Pitch's lap? "That sounds pretty good to me, too."

Pitch pulled Jack closer, and they fell through their merged shadows onto the couch in the large bedroom. The door vanished with a click of his fingers, and Jack captured the older spirit's lips in a fierce, burning cold kiss. Jack moved his mouth to Pitch's neck, hands making quick work of his own belt buckle before moving back up to tangle in dark locks.

Pitch came first with a quiet keen, followed closely by Jack's screaming climax. The ancient spirit chuckled and laid his lover out on the couch, carefully removing his pants. "These will need laundering."

"S'okay." Jack grinned, sliding Pitch's robe from his shoulders. "The Yetis don't ask awkward questions."

Pitch chuckled, gingerly peeling the hoodie off. His laughter stopped immediately when he saw the ice cast and the large, fresh bruise. "You were hurt by more than the salt, and you didn't tell me?"

"Hey, Pitch, it's nothing." Jack smiled, warm and genuine. "I'll be all better before the Guardians are done searching your Lair." he kissed Pitch's collarbone. "Besides, I feel perfectly fine."

Pitch frowned, and pressed his hand the the ugly mark. Jack flinched, and the Nightmare King sighed. "How badly does it hurt?"

"That first time I came in here, and I hit all those cages? That hurt a lot worse." the lithe Guardian takes Pitch's hand and presses it to his injury. "This is nothing. Don't worry yourself over it."

Pitch smiled wryly. "Are you really so eager for my company that you'll dismiss your own injuries?"

"Just shut up." Jack grinned, pressing a kiss to Pitch's cheek. "I thought we had catching-up to do."

Pitch grinned, and held Jack still for a proper kiss. "You're absolutely insufferable, you know that?"

The winter sprite hooked his fingers into Pitch's waistband and tugged down. "Do your worst." he grinned coyly, rolling his hips.

Pitch's sharp teeth gleamed in the dim light, sending a pleasant tingle down Jack's spine. "Oh, I do intend to."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LIIIIIIIIVE!!!!!!!!
> 
> Sorry for the long-ass break, I was going through a rough patch with my muses. I lost, like, four drafts of this chapter before finally getting this one done, and I must say I'm actually rather happy with how it came out. Next chapter will probs be a PWP, and hopefully come a LOT faster than this one did :p


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I'm gonna try and list all the kinks of this chapter. Will probably miss some, but if you've read this much you're probably okay with whatever these two kinky li'l shits decide they wanna do.
> 
> DP, gangbang, S&M, biting, dirty talk, slight cumplay/inflation, and rough sex (with all those other ones, did you think it wasn't gonna be a bit rough?)

"Pitch!" Bunny yelled, stalking through the Lair. "I know yer in here ya ratbag."

Still no answer.

Sandy signed something incomprehensible, flashing Pitch's silhouette and a series of shapes. Bunny turned back to the hall, scanning it carefully. North and Tooth weren't going to be getting much searching done if the faint sounds echoing through the halls were anything to go by.

Sandy grabbed him by the Pooka's bandoleer and tugged, pointing at a blank stretch of wall. It was no different from any other stretch of wall they'd passed, but Sandy was signing faster than Tooth talked and Bunny sighed. "Ya want me to break it down?"

Sandy facepalmed, and showed the sand glyphs again. Slower this time, waiting for comprehension each time before moving to the next one. It took a good few minutes, but eventually the smallest Guardian got Bunny to pull out one of his enchanted paintbrushes and draw a double door with an arched top that looked like it was made of wood. Then he blew Dreamsand on it, and gave the handles a yank. Bunny gawked. His teammate had just sprinkled a painting with dust and turned it into an actual three-dimensional item.

Sandy strained to open the doors, and Bunny grabbed one of the handles as well to add his strength. They swung open with a screech, and the two Guardians looked through at... featureless darkness. Sandy crafted a yarn ball of Dreamsand and pitched it into the darkness. It rolled down a gradual slope, until Bunny could no longer see the tumbling ball of glowing gold.

"Sandy?"

The rotund Guardian showed a pair of familiar profiles.

"We get North and Tooth first?"

Sandy nodded, then showed four stick figures going down a slope to a series of question marks.

"We've got no idea what could be down there. So we should go as a group?"

Sandy nodded emphatically, and a golden mimic of Toothiana's fairies spun itself into life between his hands. It flitted off, and he grinned proudly.

A few minutes later the bird returned, North and Tooth close behind. Bunny resisted the urge to facepalm. Tooth's feathers were shiny wet and pointing in all sorts of directions, while North's belt hadn't been fastened properly and his face was more ruddy than usual.

"Yer as bad as teenagers."

North grinned smugly, tucking the loose end of his belt back through the loops as Sandy bobbed down the tunnel. Bunny did facepalm when the red-clad Wizard smoothed down the feathers on Tooth's hips, making her face go brilliant red before she darted after Sandy.

"If I ever walk in on you two, I'm gonna put egg grenades in some very uncomfortable places."

North laughed loudly and followed Tooth, straightening his hat. Bunny sighed and glanced at the doors. They were wedged open pretty firmly, and he wasn't about to use his only weapons as backup doorstops. Turning his back to the light, the Guardian of Hope took a deep breath and jogged down the gentle slope after his friends.

\-----

Jack's scream melted into moan as Pitch ran one hand up his chest, tracing a new shadow into existence to play with his nipples. "Cheater." he gasped, rocking his hips in time to the insistent thrusting of the shadow tentacles in his ass.

"Mm, I believe that's for me to decide." Pitch smiled. His fingers twitched, and Jack screamed hoarsely as the shadow in his butt splintered, growing a small appendage to vibrate against his prostate.

"Please, Pitch." he gasped, voice cracking as the shadow on his chest split neatly in two to manipulate both nipples at once. "I'm so full already."

The Nightmare King smiled, and Jack gasped loudly as he fell through his own shadow and landed face down where he had just been. There was pressure at his entrance, and for a moment he thought the shadow dildo was going to swell up. Then the pressure increased, and his scream far eclipsed Pitch's quiet moan. "Please!" he wailed, his cock already hard again. "Gods, please, PITCH!" he came with a scream that echoed in the room, and Pitch's hands gripped him tightly.

"So eager to please, Jack." Pitch purred, breath only hitching slightly and he sank his teeth into Jack's earlobe and sucked. "Would you take more?"

"Yes." the winter sprite moaned loudly, "Fill me 'til I rip, Pitch. Fuck me till I can't even feel my ass. Oh, **GODS** , Pitch!" his voice broke into a wail at the end, as the Nightmare King came, nails digging into his shoulders so hard the skin broke.

Pulling out, Pitch crafted a cock of shadows and pressed it against his lover's leaking hole. It stretched, and he flipped Jack over again, this time landing the teen on his lap. Jack keened, writhing as the two shadow dildos began thrusting at different rates, still stimulating his prostate. Pitch pulled him close and smashed their moths together, stealing what little breath the Guardian had. "Shall I put another in you, Jack? You make the most exquisite faces, stretched so tight around my cock. How many do you think you could take, Jack? Four? Five?"

Jack gasped, eyes fluttering. "Gods, Pitch." he moaned as the shadows suddenly ceased moving, granting him a moment of lucidity. "You'll have to check for yourself." he rolled his hips, bringing one hand down to pump the Nightmare King's member. "Fuck me into the mattress, Pitch. Remind me who I belong to. I don't want to be able to _walk_ when we're done in here." 

Leaning down, he began mouthing Pitch's throat, scraping his teeth over the pulse points and sucking on the long stretch of pale grey skin below his adam's apple. Pitch swallowed, and Jack had to pull away and gasp as his hips were tilted and Pitch slid two cocks into his already stressed hole. His ass screamed as the three shadow tenta-dildos began writhing, and he came quickly with a scream. 

Six climaxes and three shadow dildos later, Pitch dissolved the toys and pulled Jack close so he could shower the smaller spirit's face with kisses. "Are you hurt? Was I too rough?" 

"Pitch, I'm fine." Jack smiled, pushing the Nightmare king so he was on his back. "I'll probably be walking funny for a few days, but it was amazing." he smiled and leaned down, giving the Nightmare King a passionate kiss. 

"So, you discovered some things about yourself while you were away?" Pitch smiled, running one hand up Jack's thigh. His skin was marked all over, bruised where he had begged to be held harder, bleeding slightly where he had wanted to try the riding crop, and littered all over with bites and hickeys. 

"Next time, I wanna top." Jack smiled, lying down so his head was on the Nightmare King's chest. "See how you look all trussed up, with your nice hat and those tall boots. Maybe a corset?" 

Pitch snorted. "I do believe I underestimated you, Frost. You are quite possibly the most perverted partner I have ever hand." 

"I blame you. You're sexy no matter what you're doing to me in here. I can't help it if my boyfriend's voice gets all low, and husky, and seductive, when he's whispering dirty things in my oh. so. sensitive ears." he said the last few words haltingly, lips just barely not touching Pitch's as he spoke. His hand crept lower as well throughout the sentence, until he found Pitch's half-erection. His fingers brushed over it lightly, and he smiled as Pitch stifled a gasp. 

"Jack, what are you doing?" the grey-skinned spirit asked with a bemused smile. 

"Well, you didn't quite finish." Jack smiled angelically, taking it in hand. "I'm remedying the situation." 

Pitch clapped a hand over his mouth to muffle his near-inaudible moans. Jack reached up with his free hand and peeled it away. "Let me hear you, okay? There's nobody here but us." 

Pitch bit the inside of his cheek, his breath hitching as he did his best not to moan. Jack made his pulls slow and gentle, his grip feather-light. Pitch's hands gripped the sheets like claws, and he let out a whimpering moan. Jack smirked, and tightened his hold ever so slightly. Pitch tried to bring a hand up to cover his mouth again, and this time Jack was there first, kissing his partner tenderly. 

"I want to hear you, dummy." he smiled. His grip firmed up, and he began stroking faster, slowly but surely wringing more small sounds out of the Nightmare King. Pitch moaned properly as he came, and a thought flitted trough Jack's mind that the sheets would have been horrendously stained if they hadn't already been black. 

Wiping his hand oh the bedding, Jack curled up with his head on Pitch's chest, one ear just over his heart. "Was that nice?" he asked with a smile. 

"Very much so." Pitch smiled back, carding a hand through Jack's damp hair. It would be refreezing soon, and when they woke he knew the winter sprite would drag him into the shower to help wash it all out. "I trust you enjoyed yourself?" 

Jack nodded, turning to lie on his back so he could give Pitch a lazy grin. "I wasn't sure you'd go for it. Thanks, though." 

"You enjoyed being made to bleed there?" Pitch chuckled. 

"Well, I knew it was all really you, and I was ready for it to happen, so it was okay." 

Pitch shook his head, smiling and laughing quietly. "You are the most complex Seasonal I have ever encountered, Jack. Every time we sleep together now, I seem to discover something else you like." 

The teen shrugged. "There was this really tasteless joke that a couple of the guys in my barrack loved to toss around. 'You can't rape the willing'. I just realized, for us, it's pretty true. I don't think it would be possible for you to rape me. You know exactly how to make me say yes." 

Pitch gave Jack a disbelieving stare. "Earlier you said you wanted a chance to top, and now you're trying to convince me to engage in a rape scene with you?" 

Jack shrugged. "Well, we don't have to do any of that next time if you don't want to. What's the rush, right?" 

Pitch smiled fondly and ruffled Jack's hair. "Sleep, Jack. We can talk about this in the morning." 

The winter sprite nodded and turned onto his side, pulling Pitch along so he was tucked entirely in the taller spirit's embrace. "G'night, Pitch." he mumbled. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so it didn't end up being **totally** a PWP, just mostly. It _was_ , however, immensely fun to write. And yes, that was Christmas Cookie on the side. I love them together, they're adorably sappy. Blackice, on the other hand, is so fuckin kinky I keep surprising myself. I can totally see them with this big huge whiteboard, going over what's okay and not okay, just openly saying what they'll accept or not accept.


	15. Chapter 15

Bunny clenched his teeth, watching Jack disappear out the window. As soon as the youngest Guardian had been whisked away on the wind, he turned and levelled a glare at his remaining team mates. "I was not the only one who saw that, right?"

North slowly shook his head. "Jack knows he does not have to fear us, and yet he flinches when you grab him."

"Do you think he hurt himself and he's hiding it?" Tooth worried, her attending fairies making noises of concern.

"Trust me, this ain't the first time Frostbite's hidden bruises." Bunny growled, the fur of his ruff standing on end.

Sandy formed a large question mark, then a clock winding backwards, then a series of tally marks decreasing until there was only one.

"The first time I saw was after we beat General Winter."

"Bah, he took beating in battle." North said, though not without a small frown.

"Trust me, North, these weren't from the fight.” Bunny glared at the wall. “He’d been held down, tied up, beaten with a switch, and bitten."

Tooth shivered, running her hands down her arms. "He does get awfully quiet when we ask about his relationship.

"Why not ask him?" North boomed. "Ask if mystery boyfriend needs to be reminded who Jack's family is."

"Ya don't think I tried that?" Bunny snapped. "Drongo said everything was fine, his bloke just got carried away."

Sandy sucked in a breath between his teeth, looking worried. He signed the single tally mark again, then a clock moving forwards, then two, three, four tallies and a question mark.

Tooth nodded “How many times do you think he’s hidden injuries from us?”

“How many times have we met in the past half century?” Bunny fired back.

“Bunny, calm yourself.” North rumbled warningly. “Have you seen him injured any times other than after battle?”

The Pooka frowned. “Probably half a dozen times. He’d show up at the Warren beat half to death and complain about how mean his lover is. Then a few days later he’d say he had apologizing ta do, and go right back.”

Sandy looked alarmed, and showed a snowflake floating away from a rabbit towards a menacing male figure. Then he waved his hands through that and showed the snowflake being stopped by all four of them, held in a big hug while the menacing figure waved an angry fist.

“Sandy has a point.” Tooth nodded. “Why didn’t you ever call us?”

“Every time I’m about to, the little wanker runs off.”

“Next time, call us as soon as Jack arrives.”

“No.”

The other three Guardians looked at Bunny like he was crazy.

“I slipped a tracker in Jack’s hood. I’m gonna make sure there isn’t a next time. You with me?”

Sandy nodded grimly, punching a hand into his palm. Tooth and North nodded as well, North resting a hand on his sabre’s hilt. “I will get moon sword, then we go give Jack’s boyfriend shovel talk.”

\-----

“Jack, are you absolutely certain you want to do this?”

The Guardian rolled his eyes. “Pitch, I think I’m the one who needs to be asking _you_ that question. Are you comfortable playing your role in this? If not, I’m game for another turn with the cuffs. Those are always a blast.” he grinned easily, reaching up to run a thumb over his lover’s cheek. They had been discussing this particular scenario for years, and only a few months ago had they agreed upon the last details. They would “meet” in a club, where Pitch would slip Jack a roofie and from there bring him to an unfamiliar location. In reality, Jack would be in a carefully controlled nightmare while Pitch brought him to somewhere he’d never been before in the Lair, and prepare him. Then Jack would wake, attempt to escape, and Pitch would chase him. Pitch could use his shadows to keep Jack from actually getting into familiar territory, because that would just ruin the game, but aside from that powers were strictly prohibited during the chase. When Jack was eventually cornered, Pitch would pin him to the wall and “rape” him. Here, of course, powers were fair game. It’d hardly be fun otherwise.

It was their most elaborate scenario yet, and one Jack had been entertaining fantasies of for decades. Pitch had shot him down soundly the first time, but twelve years ago they had begun venturing into scenarios which required more creativity than their usual fare of pirates and mobsters. Student and teacher had been a particularly fun one, and while Jack hadn’t quite been able to look North in the eye for a few years after the Lolita incident, Pitch’s face (and the ensuing sex) had been so very worth it. There had been bumps along the way, and several occasions where one of them needed their safe word, but finally Pitch understood how implicit the youngest Guardian’s trust in him was.

Pitch chuckled and bent down to kiss Jack on the edge of his mouth. “I make a point of checking, Jack. I cannot read your mind.”

Jack smiled, stepping back and letting a cloud of ice surround him. When it fell away his Guardian attire was gone, replaced by soft white slacks and a shimmery blue button-down. “Safe word is still ponies, yeah?”

“Of course.” the Nightmare King smiled, phasing into a three-dimensional shadow for a moment. When he reappeared he was clad in shadows which mimicked the look of jeans, a tight shirt, and a leather jacket. All black, of course. Jack grinned, giving his boyfriend a once-over with his eyes.

“You have _got_ to wear that again sometime.” he grinned cheekily.

A small ball of sand appeared in Pitch’s palm, and he returned Jack’s smile. “Ready?”

“Let the games begin.”

\-----

Jack sat at the club’s bar, nursing a beer and letting the music wash over him. There was a spine-tingling squeak as somebody sat on the stool next to him, and he looked over to see a tall, thin man in black biking gear. “Bartender, two beers please.” he called.

Eight dollars were swapped for the drinks, and Jack gave the stranger a bemused grin when one of the bottles was held out to him. “Idunno if I’m drunk enough to get hit on like this.” he chuckled, accepting the cool bottle.

“Maybe you will be when you finish that drink you’ve barely touched.” the stranger smiled. “Name’s Pitch, by the way.”

“Jack.” he smiled back, downing the remaining beer from his first bottle and taking a swig from the second.

They continued chatting for a while, and after finishing his beer Jack went to the bathroom. When he came back, Pitch had ordered two more drinks. The slender biker was sipping a glass of wine, while a rum and coke was waiting in Jack’s spot.

“I don’t usually see bikers drinking wine here.” he quipped, taking a sip of his drink. It fizzed deliciously in his mouth.

“I rarely see other bikers drinking wine anywhere.” Pitch shot back, taking another sip of his drink. They continued chatting for a bit longs, Jack sucking down his alcoholic soda and Pitch sipping his drink. When Jack bade the barkeep good night, pleading inexplicable exhaustion, Pitch offered him a ride home.

\-----

Jack woke with a start, as he always did from nightmares, and found himself in darkness. Pitch was straddling him, undoing the buttons on his shirt and chuckling to himself. The winter sprite gave a shout of mock fear and lashed out, using what Bunny had taught him to throw the larger spirit to the floor. Ripping off the blindfold, he squinted around until he found the door. Pitch was already picking himself up, expertly acting the drunk violent asshole, and Jack fled. The halls were darker than he had expected, only lit every few corners, and he took turns at random. It didn’t take long for him to realize that Pitch was so cheating.

Things grabbed at his ankles, making him stumble. Nails scratched at his neck and back, sometimes catching on his collar or his hair, and Jack could feel distinctly non-fake terror building in the back of his mind. But he knew he would let it slide, because the terror was capping well below the intensity of thrill of being chased, and both of those paled in anticipation of what would come after.

Jack cried out as he stubbed his toe, and as he was hopping in place clutching his foot he came down on a poorly set stone. In hindsight, he should have asked first if Pitch had any maze-like areas tey hadn’t traversed which weren’t cluttered or poorly maintained. Footsteps echoed down the hall, and Jack decided that afterwards he’d chew Pitch out for disregarding the no-powers rule. Jack pulled himself up using the wall, and when he put weight on his foot he cried out in pain. Fuck, that actually hurt. And since he’d left his staff under the globe he couldn’t even ice it. At least now he could guilt Pitch into carrying him afterwards.

Footsteps echoed from the end of the hall and Jack began hopping forwards, using the rough stone wall to support himself. After a few steps strong hands grabbed his shoulders and pulled him away from the wall, slamming him against the opposite side of the hall as the lights raised to half power. “I was going to be gentle.” the taller spirit growled. “But you leave me no choice.”

“No, get off me!” Jack yelled, raising his voice as if he was actually calling for help.

Pitch smacked him, following with a harsh bite while Jack was still reeling. “Shut up, nobody’s going to hear you.” Pitch snarled, voice pitched perfectly to make Jack squirm.

“Help!” he yelled again as Pitch yanked the slacks down to hang around his ankles. “Somebody, help me!” shadow-woven denim hit the floor, and Jack’s screams were aborted as Pitch lifted him and slammed him against the wall again.

“If you’re good, I’ll kill you quick when I’m done with you.” Pitch growled warningly. “If you don’t complain, I might even keep you a while.”

Jack screamed as he was entered abruptly, exaggerating his reaction to the edge of ridiculous. Pitch bit down hard enough to draw blood, and Jack covered a loud moan by screaming bloody murder. Pitch’s fingers dug into his hips, and Jack screamed again as his lover set a brutally fast rhythm. The older spirit kept him expertly balanced on the very edge of pain and pleasure, ripping his shirt open and running his nails harshly down the Seasonal Guardian’s chest and sides.

Jack very nearly broke, his screams becoming keens of pleasure for a moment before he caught himself. The wall was rough against his back, Pitch’s nails drew lines of blood over his chest, and he was completely helpless to defend himself. Not that he would've had to physically throw Pitch off, or that he particularly wanted to.

" **Pitch**!"

Both spirits looked to the end of the hall, where the voice had come from, and Pitch spoke first.

"This isn't what it looks like."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congrats to Starry_Night for guessing how this would go down. You get an internet cookie :)
> 
> I wanted to put some filler smut in between the last chapter and this one, but decided against it. So you can just imagine all the kinky shit they've gotten up to in the 50-60 years they've been together.
> 
> The incidents Bunny mentions are few and far between, about once a decade, which is about how often Jack and Pitch have a spat. Since they're pretty much even in terms of power and ability, the first part of their settling a fight is to have a no-holds-barred sparring match. Jack usually loses these, and claims it's because Pitch insists on fighting shirtless. They each retreat to lick their wounds, then meet up again a few days later and talk it out like grown ups.
> 
> Next chapter, the Guardians and Pitch fight!


	16. Chapter 16

Pitch stumbled sideways as a boomerang smashed into his shoulder and Jack cursed loudly as he dropped to the floor, landing on his sprained ankle. Scrambling to his feet, he hopped on one foot while tugging the pants up. If he only hand his staff he could change everything back into his usual wear, and ice up his foot, and maybe even stop the fighting.

“Jack, come on.” Bunny snapped, grabbing the youngest Guardian’s arm and dragging him away from the fight. Ow, fuck, his ankle was going to be horrendously swollen later and he was going to be freezing people in some uncomfortable places.

“We’re getting you somewhere-”

Ice erupted across the Pooka’s fur, freezing open the hand grabbing Jack. At least he could pull that off unarmed. “What the fuck are you doing here?” he shouted, carefully balancing his weight on the one good foot.

“We came here to save you, ya gumby. And got here just in time by the looks of it.”

“Did you even grab my staff? No, of course not, because I’m apparently the only one on this team with an actual brain!”

“Jack, catch!” North yelled. The winter sprite spun on his toes, and caught the weathered wood in one hand. Frost spiralled through the grain, and the whole weapon lit up with cold blue light. A clear boot of ice formed over his injured foot, and Jack whirled back around to clock Bunny with the crook of the staff. Following through with his swing, he struck the flagstones with a crack of magic.

Glassy smooth ice spread over the unsteady floor, making North stumble. The floor beneath Pitch stayed clear, the ice clinging to the edge of his personal patch of shadow, and Tooth spun around with a horrified gasp. The narrow passage made her an easy target, and when she lunged at him Jack froze her hands to the wall. North had regained his footing, but a simple gesture made the ice under the Cossack’s his feet grow up to encase his legs to the knee. 

Sandy gave Jack a look of utter betrayal, and Jack hooked him away from a swipe of Pitch’s sword. The smallest Guardian looked confused, and Jack held up a finger. “Gimme a sec, Sandy.”

The Dreamweaver bobbed back, and a small flurry of snow turned Jack’s world white for a moment. He was completely hidden by white powder and blue magic, and his ice-woven outfit melted away into the tattered leather pants and ratty blue hoodie he was more comfortable in. When the flurry cleared Sanderson looked impressed, and Jack turned to Pitch. “Next time, let’s just have the whole thing in dreams.”

“Agreed.”

Bunny groaned and Jack leveled the crook of his staff at the Easter Guardian. “You said you came to rescue me. What the fuck made you think I needed rescuing?”

“Jack, are you starkers? Why’re ya defending **Pitch**? Don’t you remember what he tried to do?”

“Yes. And I’m the only one of all you who saw the aftermath.”

“Jack, is Pitch. Aftermath is unimportant.”

Sandy shot North a stern glare, and showed a level scale with the Guardian G on one side and a profile of Pitch on the other.

“Thank you, Sandy.” Pitch smiled tensely. Jack lifted off the ground and went to float next to his partner.

“Precisely. Pitch was weak, and you guys were stronger than ever because of me. So something decided to level the playing field. My teeth made me remember my past life, from the Golden Age.”

“Jack, your teeth couldn’t do that. They can’t hold any memories which aren’t from a single person’s childhood.”

“I’ve got no clue what made them show me memories of that life, but they led me to come find Pitch.” he reached over and laced his fingers with the taller spirit’s. “We’ve been together ever since.”

“I knew it. Only Pitch would be able to overpower you and-”

“Is this about-” Jack facepalmed and groaned into his hand, giving his friend a baleful look. “Bunny, how many times have I told you those were nothing?”

“I’ve helped enough kids out of bad relationships to know an excuse when I hear one.”

Pitch bristled, shadows darkening around his feet. “You impudent rabbit.” he snarled, stepping halfway in front of Jack. “I would never hurt Jackson. Not then, and certainly not now.”

“Bunny, have you ever heard of BDSM?” Jack piped up, placing a hand on Pitch’s elbow.

“Mighta seen it written somewhere.”

“Tooth? North?”

North chuckled and gave Jack a nod, sheathing the glowing golden sword. Toothiana blushed, hands flying up to cover her cheeks. “Oh, is that where...”

“Any bruises this dumbass told you about? Every single one of those was consensual.”

“But what about-”

“Bunny I swear to god, if you keep being a dense fuck I’m going to die of embarrassment right here and it will be entirely your fault.”

“What Frost means, is that we were engaged in a fully consensual scene. Your Winter Spirit is quite the surprise, is he not?”

“Pitch!” Jack hit the older spirit, frost blooming across his cheeks. “I’m going to die. I am going to literally die, again, because my friends are morons and my boyfriend is a total jerk!”

“Tha’s right.” Bunny said, and all eyes turned to the Pooka. “Every time you come to the Warren all banged up, yer complaining about this bloke.” he levelled an accusatory finger at Pitch. “I can tell battle wounds when I see ‘em.”

“It’s how we settle arguments.” Jack shrugged, making the ice disappear with a casual gesture of his staff.

“I generally win the preliminaries, which is what you see the aftermath of, then when we’ve both calmed down we come back together and come to an agreement.”

Bunny’s mouth opened and closed, grass green eyes narrowed in anger and suspicion, and Jack yelped as his feet were swept out from under him. Pitch planted a kiss on the winter sprite’s cheek, and gave the Guardians a stern look. “If you would excuse me, I believe you interrupted us in the middle of something. Sanderson, you will see them out?”

Sandy nodded, and winked at the pair before turning to the rest of the Guardians. Stern, lectury, I-told-you-so looking sand symbols flashed as he shepherded them back down the halls, and Pitch stepped through a shadow into the Captain’s Quarters of the Nightmare Galleon. Jack sprawled out on top of the sheets, and gave the ancient spirit a withering glare.

“I hate you.”

“Should I apologize?” Pitch asked dryly, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“You were so cheating.” Jack huffed, crossing his arms and glaring at the Nightmare King. “And I twisted my ankle.”

“Would you like me to kiss it better?” Pitch smiled, stretching out to lie next to the smaller spirit.

“Next time we do that, I’ve got some ideas on how to design the dreamscape.” Jack said suddenly, rolling onto his side to face Pitch with a grin.

“If I let you build the maze, you’ll have the upper hand.” the dark spirit pointed out.

“If you cheat again, it’ll be a level field.” Jack countered, propping himself up on one elbow.

“Fair enough.” he conceded. “What were you thinking of?”

“Ha! You just admitted you were cheating!” Jack grinned.

“You-” Pitch smiled and shook his head. “I admit, the thought of a chase without using my powers seemed a bit too dull. But they never did anything to harm you.”

“They chased me into a box and made me stub my toe.” Jack huffed.

“But they didn’t twist your ankle.”

“No, that happened while I was hopping up and down holding my stubbed toe, and a goddamned floor stone turned under my foot." Jack glowereed, pulling the injured foot to his body and rubbing the stiff ice boot he'd created to cover it. "Do you have any tunnels we haven’t explored which aren’t cluttered and falling apart?”

“Well, I _can_ change the shape of my Realm at will.” Pitch smiled, phasing the blanket into shadow and pulling it up over the both of them. Jack extended his leg again and grabbed the fleece, practically nuzzling the dark fabric.

“If you can do it to the ship, I’m so sold.” Jack grinned back, pulling the blanket up under his chin and snuggling down into the soft fabric.

“The ship?" Pitch raised a bare eyebrow skeptically. "You would suggest altering my Galleon, so you can play a game of chase?”

“A game where you get to fuck me against a wall when you win." Jack pointed out, grinning mischievously. "Just think about it, I’d be the escaped slave, and you’d be the Captain.”

“That reminds me." Pitch frowned, reaching out to brush the long marks he'd left down the pale sprite's chest. "Was I too rough? You sounded pained.”

“I was loving every second of it, Pitch. Just playing along.” Jack grinned easily, placing a hand over the taller spirit's.

“I always worry I’m going to harm you.” the ancient spirit sighed, looking at their twining fingers rather than meeting Jack's bright blue eyes.

“Pitch.” Jack grabbed his lover's shoulder with his free hand and waited until the older man met his eyes. “I loved every single thing you did to me tonight. If you'd gotten too rough, I would have told you to stop.”

“Jack, no matter what you say I will always worry.”

“About what? Holding onto me?" Jack snorted. "It’s not like you’ve got any competition. Hell, if anything, I should be the one worrying about that. I’m surprised nobody else has come to get a piece of you.”

Pitch paused and pulled back, giving the younger man a skeptical look.   
“Jack, what do you mean I needn’t worry about holding on to you? You are of Winter, your kind are known for their fickle nature, low standards, and loose morals. I have been blessed to keep your eye so long, when the world is full of spirits much younger and more attractive than myself. Some are even more powerful.”

“Whoa, whoa. Back up two steps.” Jack frowned. “Winter spirits are easy?” he snorted and shook his head. “I guess that’s why nobody would ever agree to go on a date with me.”

Pitch blinked owlishly. “You have never been with another? In your three and a half centuries, you have never taken a partner before me?”

“Uh, no? I never got along with other spirits too well.” Jack shrugged, cuddling back up to his boyfriend. “And anyways, I sorta picked up on the whole purity-until-marriage thing the settlers had going on, stuck to that for a while. But that’s besides the point. Have you seriously been thinking, for the past half a century, that I was going to dump you?”

“I have never heard of a relationship with a Winter spirit lasting more than a year.”

“Guess you forgot, I’m not just Winter. I’m moon-touched too, which is apparently just enough to make the other Seasonals think twice before inviting me to their super secret club meetings.”

Pitch made a sympathetic sound and petted Jack’s head, fingers running through the usually fluffy white hair and breaking up the chunks of ice. “I did not know they excluded you.”

“It’s not like I was totally alone.” Jack grinned, nuzzling into Pitch’s chest. “And who cares about some dumb Seasonal club anyway, I’ve got you.”

“And I, you.” Pitch smiled, pressing a kiss to Jack’s forehead. “Rest, Jack. We can continue this conversation in the morning.”

“Don’t think there’s that much left to say.” the winter sprite smiled, closing his eyes and dropping off. A small dreambeast in the shape of an axolotl crawled out of his hood, and Pitch watched as his lover fell into deep calm dreams of sailing on rivers of starlight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry for the unannounced 8-month break, things happened and I lost my RotG muse for a while. But it's back now, and this story will probably have one or two more chapters, depending on how much porn I feel like writing. For everyone who has read this, especially those who have left comments and kudos, thank you. You guys are what keep me writing <3


	17. Chapter 17

The Guardians sat around their meeting table, talking in low voices as they waited for their newest and youngest member to arrive. It had been three days since the incident in Pitch’s Realm, and they had each received a scroll of ice instructing them to meet at the Workshop at this date and time. Or rather, this date five minutes ago. Jack was chronically tardy, that was true, but today his absence made the Guardians uneasy.

The door to the conference room blew open with a bang, and Tooth and Bunny jumped in their seats. All four turned to face the entrance, and collectively shivered. Jack had displayed an affinity for creating outfits of snow and ice in the past, but this was the first time he’d shown up to a meeting in anything but his favourite ancient pants and raggedy hoodie. Today he wore a deep blue button down, black skinny jeans, and a heavy white cape which billowed a trail of white fog behind him. Two pairs of golden eyes peaked through the icy mist, and as the doors blew shut with a bang even louder than the one they’d made upon opening.

Bunny’s fur stood on end as the fog settled to curl around Jack’s feet, revealing a pair of NightMares with webs of silver woven into their black hides. Sandy threw up an exclamation point, then a small host of question marks.

“We decided it’d be a bad idea for Pitch to tag along in person, so he sent these two as my guards.”

“Jack, you don’t need guards.” Tooth frowned sadly. “We’re not here to hurt you.”

“I know, but you do have a history of jumping to conclusions.” the winter sprite smirked, eyes flashing the same cold blue as his magic. The NightMares’ eyes shimmered, and brightened into Jack’s signature blue. Silver curled out from their glowing sockets, forming elegant swirls within the grain of their skin, and Tooth shivered.

“Why’re we here, ya drongo?” Bunny barked, standing and crossing his arms. “You got something ta say, say it.”

“You all know now that I have been seeing Pitch Black for the past half a century.” Jack said slowly, gaze more serious than any of them had ever seen. “What he and I do is our own business, and unless I explicitly invite you to question, will say nothing more about it. Am I clear?” his eyes flashed at the end, gaze flicking from face to face as they nodded. The Mares flanking him nickered, the blue glow fading from their eyes and the ice evaporating from their coats.

“Wait, that’s it?” Bunny frowned. “You coulda put that in the letter instead, spared us all the trouble of coming up here.”

“Would you really have heeded my words if I just wrote them to you?” the teen spirit deadpanned, irises flickering as he held Bunny’s gaze.

“”Probly not. Don’t feel particularly inclined to listen to ya in person either, though.” Bunny crossed his arms, and Jack shrugged, gesturing carelessly with his staff.

“Well, next person to interrupt us won’t get unfrozen as quickly as I thawed you guys in the hallway.” Jack grinned, his smile just the wrong side of malicious for Toothiana’s attending fairies to swoon and drop. One of the more excitable ones did anyways, but her sisters caught her.

“Jack, just checking but, are you sure Pitch has not been influencing you?” North asked carefully. It was easy to forget most of the time that their youngest member was as much a force of nature as he was a guardian of children, but at the moment Jack looked almost as cold and frightening as General Winter himself. “He has many tricks up his sleeves, and they have caught even the most wary of us off guard.” his eyes flicked over to Bunny, who was still looking a bit put out.

“If anything, I’m influencing him.” Jack laughed, as bright and carefree as ever. “What, am I acting funny?”

“Yes. More...” North paused a moment, thinking of the right word. “Forceful.”

Jack laughed again, this time lifting up into the air and grasping his staff with both hands, floating in a very familiar stance about a foot off the ground. “You’ve never seen me at work, have you?” he grinned, sharp and challenging. “Swing by my place sometime, I’ll show you I’m more than I appear.”

The fog trail from jack’s cloak quickly hid the two silvered NightMares, and Bunny pulled out a boomerang to turn in his hands. “Think I’ll pass on that offer, mate. Got a lot of work to do before next Easter.”

“I can’t really fly too well in the cold.” Toothiana smiled politely. “But I bet Baby Tooth would love to come.”

“I will come to visit after New Year’s.” North boomed, crossing the room to pull Jack into a rib-cracking hug. “It is good to see you are happy with boyfriend. I wish you many years.”

Jack laughed and gave the Russian spirit a return hug. “Thanks for the approval, big guy.” he floated back to a polite distance, and glanced at Sandy. The diminutive dreamweaver flashed a thumbs up, then a handful of complex symbols most of the spirits present couldn’t decipher.

“Well of course _you_ know.” Jack rolled his eyes. “You’ve been keeping an eye on me ever since I can remember.”

Another flurry of symbols, and Jack snorted. “Standing invitation, bro.”

Sandy grinned and flickered through another few symbols quickly, lingering on a triplet of outlines a few times and ending with a question mark.

“Well, sure. I’ll be sure to talk to him about it.” Jack smiled, shifting his staff to the crook of his elbow and moving to stick his hands in his hoodie pocket. He frowned briefly at his shirt, then sighed. “Alright, I got other shit to do so...” he glanced up at his teammates and gave a devillish grin. “See ya next meeting~”

The doors swung slowly open, and Jack gave a sharp whistle before turning and zooming out into the hall. The sound of hooves followed him, and the remaining four Guardians gave each other wary confused looks.

“Ya think he really means it?” Bunny frowned, glancing at the other Guardians.

“What’s there to lie about anymore?” Tooth crossed her arms, rubbing away the last bit of chill.

“No, about letting us tag along while he works.” Tooth frowned pensively.

“Of course he means what he says.” North declared, grinning broadly. “Jack may be secretive, but he is honest.”

Sandy nodded in agreement, complex pictographs spinning over his head. Tooth nodded after a moment. “Agreed.”

“Still can’t read those bloody things.” Bunny grumbled. “Anybody care ta translate?”

“Sandy has seen Jack at work before.” North rumbled, sounding amused. “It seems our young friend is not all snowballs and funtimes, as he has claimed. He is quite the force of nature, our Jack.”

“So, what?” Bunny scowled. “We just let him off scot free, not even some warnings about hiding his association with Pitch from us?”

“Jack was just protecting self.” North shrugged. “He is grown spirit, can make own decisions.”

“He lied to us, right to our faces.” Bunny spat. “We’ve been looking for Pitch for years, and every time we asked he told us he hadn’t seen the bastard.”

“Bunny.” Tooth scolded.

“Bunny has point.” North conceded. “I suggest we decide on punishment at next meeting.”

“Good idea.” Bunny nodded. “Tooth, Sandy?”

Sandy nodded and flashed a thumbs up over his head. Tooth nodded, accompanied by her attending fairies. 

“Then it is agreed. We will discuss discipline of Jack Frost for witholding information at next meeting. Until then, _do svidaniya i udachi_.”

“ _Alavidā aura acchī kismata_ ” Tooth grinned, whistling for her fairies to follow her as she flitted over to and opened the window.

“Bye.” Bunny grinned, big and obviously fake, tapping open a tunnel to the Warren.

Sandy signed three consecutive pairs of dice at sum 7, then gave a jaunty little salute and conjured a dreamsand plane to fly out on.

North smiled and shook his head. Jack Frost would likely get off with a slap on the wrist, if that. The boy was a force of nature, but he was also their youngest member, the baby of the group. It was about time they followed Sandy’s lead and accepted the winter sprite as capable of defending himself and making adult decisions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next, and final, chapter will be up on Christmas Day.


	18. Chapter 18

Jack landed in the main room of Pitch’s Realm with a heavy sigh, dropping his cloak and unbuttoning his shirt. The deep blue fabric was cast aside after a moment, and Jack had the jeans halfway off when he heard a familiar appreciative hum.

“I hate denim.” the winter sprite grumbled, pitching the pants at his lover. “Fucking useless, pinchy, clingy-”

Pitch cut the smaller spirit off with a kiss, and rested his forehead against Jack’s when he pulled away. “I finished the alterations to the Galleon.” he smiled, running his fingers through the sprite’s hair and breaking up the ice which had settled there during the flight from the Pole. “We could go now, if you like.”

“Hell yes.” the Guardian grinned, materializing a raggedy white shift like the ones Roman slaves wore in movies. The ones they’d occasionally traded while he was a Dream Pirate usually were left in whatever they’d been wearing when they were captured, but this was hardly meant to be realistic. If they went for realism, there’d be no sex.

“Don’t worry, you shouldn’t get anything worse than a stubbed toe this time.”

Jack snorted and floated up to give his boyfriend a peck on the cheek. “You’re such a worrywart. Even if I hurt myself a bit, it’ll be fine. You can carry me back to bed after.”

Pitch summoned up a shadow, but stopped short of opening it up as a portal. “Safe word?”

“Ponies.” Jack grinned. “Same as always.”

“I still feel obliged to ask.” the ancient spirit grinned, and in an instant the pair dropped through the shadow portal into their storage room. “Which chains did you want?”

“The broken ones for my wrists.”

“These?” Pitch held up a pair of handcuffs, broken in the middle when Jack had panicked and frozen the lock open.

“No,” the winter spirit frowned, rummaging through one of the boxes. “These ones.” he held up a pair of heavy iron cuffs, with old fashioned bolts to hold them closed and thick links held together in the middle with a zip tie. His palms tingled at the contact, reddening slightly, and Pitch frowned.

“I could make you a pair of sand or shadows which wouldn’t burn you.”

“It adds authenticity.” Jack grinned, loosening the bolts with a practiced flick of an ice spike and sliding the metal circles over his wrists. “Tighten ‘em?” he held out his hands, grinning despite the angry red marks already appearing where the cuffs sat against his skin.

Pitch sighed and grabbed Jack’s hands, shadows fastening the bolts and rounded caps in place. “If your wrists get too bad, no matter how much you’re enjoying yourself, tell me. We can have sex any time, but burns take forever to heal.”

“Alright.” Jack grinned easily.

“I’m serious.” Pitch brought the Guardian’s hands together and clasped his hands around them. “If I see anything worse than first degree burns, I’m stopping the scene and it’s into the bath with you.”

“I’ll tell you.” Jack said solemnly. “If my wrists or ankles get too bad, I promise I’ll tell you.”

“Ankles?” Pitch frowned.

“There’s a matching set of ankle chains in there.” Jack grinned. “Unbroken, too. It’s why I wanted these ones specifically.”

Pitch sighed and plucked the ankle shackles from the box. “One of these days, we are going to organize this place.”

“Not tonight, thought.” Jack grinned, shivering as the iron rings locked around his ankles. “This is gonna be **great**.”

“Are you ready?” Pitch smiled, cupping the frost sprite’’s cheek.

“Yeah, but you aren’t.” Jack grinned cheekily. “Come on, half the fun is getting to see you in your old pirate duds.”

“Patience.” Pitch grinned, moving his hands to Jack’s shoulders. “Close your eyes.”

Jack did as he was told, and promptly fell into a deep dreamless sleep. Pitch chuckled and picked the eternal teen up bridal style, stepping through a shadow and into the Captain’s Quarters of his old ship. The preparatory tools were lined up neatly on the edge of the bed, as he’d left them just hours ago, and he set to work without delay, running over the scene in his head as he did so. Jack would wake alone, and when he entered he would leave the door slightly open. Jack would push him over and make a break for it while he was detailing his expectations for his new slave. He would allow a two minute head start, and then give chase. That was where the script ended, but he had a fair idea of what he would do after he caught his lover.

Wiping his hands, Pitch stood and tucked the supplies away in a drawer. Jack slumbered peacefully on the bed as he grabbed his old clothing and stepped out into the hall. He changed quickly in the next room, and took a deep breath. There would be no Guardians interfering this time. Even if they came looking, his Galleon was not accessible except through shadow travel. Jack was all his.

\-----

Jack woke with a gasp, and the distinct feeling of having just woken from a bad dream. It slipped away quickly, though, and he sat up to give his surroundings a cursory look. He was on a large bed, in a wooden room decorated with bizarre things. ( _Pitch’s cabin, of course_ ) The door opened, and he drew his knees up to his chest as a tall man in a well fitted longcoat strode in.

“You’re awake.” he drawled, and Jack nodded.

“Good.” he walked over to a smallish table bearing a goblet and a carafe of some manner of alcohol. “Starting today, you belong to me.”

Jack’s eyes flicked to the door, slowly swinging open as the ship rocked subtly.

“You will work harder than any member of the crew, and at night you will do exactly as I say. Disobedience will be met with-”

Jack sprang into motion as the pirate began pouring himself a drink, wresting the carafe away and smashing it over the taller man’s head. Then he was off like a shot, out the door and into a corridor of long wooden planks and stretching shadows. The chain between his ankles limited his strides, but he compensated by taking his smaller steps as quickly as possible.

He was thoroughly lost ( _but only sorta, since he knew which direction the exit was_ ) when he heard the distant roar of anger. One of the shadows ahead of him twisted as he planted his foot on its edge, and Jack yelped as he fell forward. It curled up his leg as he scrambled to his feet, and he had to yank himself free of it before he could continue.

The furious shouting was closer now, and Jack began sprinting again despite the stitch in his side. The shadows reached for him, and he managed to dodge most of their reaching tendrils. One latched onto his leg, cold and oily, and stayed there independent of its main body as he ran. Or rather, it slithered up his leg as he dashed through the maze-like hallways, and only hesitated a moment before sliding into his ass.

_He’d agreed to use of powers, but really this was cheating._ Jack stumbled as the shadow condensed into a tight ball, and nearly tripped over his own feet when it began pulsing. _Cheater. Complete cheat. Cheating asshole who he was totally going to fuck into the mattress next week._ If he’d not been terrified out of his mind ( _admittedly, that was fair play_ ) he would’ve quickly adjusted to the regular expansions and contractions, but as he was all Jack could do was continue running on weakening legs as the enraged cursing drew nearer.

A shadow caught his foot and Jack pitched forward, landing on his hands and knees in a patch of darkness that held him down as surely and firmly as a pudle of tar. The cursing abruptly halted, and Jack felt a chill run down his spine as it was replaced by a dark chuckle.

“Well well well.” the tall pirate laughed evilly. “Looks like you found some of my rowdier pets.”

The shadow in his ass expanded, and Jack whimpered. A foot was placed on his back as the shadow contracted again, then contracted further, and further, until it rolled out and vanished into the shadow holding him.

“Now, how should I punish such blatant disobedience?” the pirate sneered, pressing his heel into Jack’s lower back. “Perhaps I should chop off one of your toes. You don’t need all ten of them to please me.”

“No.” Jack blurted, and Pitch’s heel dug into his back harder.

“Slaves have no say in their punishment.” Pitch drawled smugly. “But you’re right, it’d be a shame to harm such a pretty young thing as you.”

The shadows miring his hands suddenly dried, and Jack gasped as he was yanked upright by his hair. _God this was going to be amazing._

“I think I’ll just take you instead.”

“T-take me?” Jack whimpered, affecting a quavering voice. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’ll be glad of my rowdy shadow’s actions soon enough.” Pitch grinned, sharp and dangerous as a whole armoury. His hand in Jack’s hair moved down to the teen’s throat, and Jack gasped as he was lifted and slammed against the wall.

“Please.” he gasped, hands scrabling ineffectually at Pitch’s hand on his throat. “No.”

“A good slave does not speak back at his master.” Pitch leered, reaching down to unbutton his pants.

Jack’s breath, what little he was getting around Pitch’s expertly placed hand, caught in his throat. Fucking finally. “No, please.” he begged, widening his eyes and making his voice tremble. “I’m begging you.”

“You forget your place, slave.” Pitch snarled, backhanding Jack across the face. It stung deliciously, and Jack had to force the tears into his eyes and voice.

“I’ll do anything you ask but **please** , not this.” he whispered hoarsely, prodding Pitch’s hand until it shifted slightly, allowing him to breathe again.

“You are my property, you belong to me.” Pitch snarled, eyes burning with fury that anybody but Jack would have thought to be genuine. “Now hold your tongue.”

Jack gasped as he was entered roughly, and bit his lip to keep from crying out. The surprise shadow had loosened him enough to make it even more enjoyable, and the stars dancing in his vision had nothing to do with his restricted oxygen or how hard his head had been slammed against the wall. Okay, maybe a little bit the first one, but mostly because Pitch was goddamn amazing and he’d been entertaining this fantasy since he was Jackson the cabin boy.

He pushed weakly on Pitch’s chest, and received a harsh bite on his neck. His wriggling was met with shadows trapping his wrists over his head, and Pitch’s nails scratching like claws down the center of his chest. He moaned, and stifled a grin as Pitch silenced him with a hard and messy kiss. Pitch sped up, and Jack had to focus to turn his moan into a whimper.

“I think-” Pitch hissed, teeth scraping over Jack’s neck. “I’ll be keeping you.”

“I thought- I was- your property.” Jack panted, “daring” to glance up at Pitch, eyes half closed. He was swiftly backhanded, and grunted in pain at the strike.

“And my property you shall remain, unless you continue to speak without permission.” Pitch snarled, teeth dangerously close to Jack’s ear.

Jack squirmed as the hand not over his throat dragged down his chest, Pitch’s long nails leaving stark white scratches in their wake. “Yes, Master.” he panted, nearly whining when Pitch backhanded him. _God, he was going to lose his mind if Pitch took any longer._

“Did I give you permission to speak?” the taller spirit growled, tightening the hand around Jack’s neck. “No. So hold your tongue, or you will find yourself in a much more uncomfortable position than my personal slave.”

Jack nodded, whimpering for added effect, and Pitch shifted his free hand down to the winter sprite’s hip. His thursts became deeper, and Jack could have sworn his cock was actually getting bigger. A few thrusts later the winter sprite was certain, and a glance down confirmed his suspicions. Pitch had wrapped his dong in shadows and was now shifting them to see if he could make Jack scream. Well, he wasn’t going to win this time.

Jack’s stuborn silence was broken all of two seconds later, when Pitch grabbed the chains dangling from his hands and yanked on them. The winter sprite cried out, and when his lover’s cock expanded again he couldn’t stifle the keening whine that slipped from his mouth. God above it felt good, being stretched tight as a drum, filled so full he felt he might pop, knowing that he could trust the man towering over him with his life if ever need be, and that the same man would never lay a hand on him again if he asked it.

Pitch’s cock expanded ven further, and Jack whimpered for real. Usually right now he’d be shouting, begging his lover to move faster, hold him tighter, but he was supposed to be a meek slave boy, and meek slave boys didn’t speak when they were ordered to be silent.

Pitch’s breaths became heavier, and Jack met his thrusts as best he could. The shadows were massive now, as large as the largest toy he’d ever seen if not bigger, and when Pitch attempted to pull all the way out Jack gasped loudly. It did come out after a moment of pressure, and Jack stared down at it in slight awe. It was massive, and still slowly expanding.

“You would have an easier time taking every man on my crew than taking this.” Pitch chuckled, running a hand over the mass of shadows which covered his cock. “I’ll enjoy seeing your pretty face warped in pain as I fuck you through this wall.”

Jack gasped as Pitch’s hand tightened on his throat, nearly cutting off his airway entirely. He would have massive bruises tomorrow, but oh god this was going to be **so** worth it. “Try. Me.” he choked, character slipping briefly as he smirked.

Pitch’s backhand was absolutely vicious, nails actually drawing blood from Jack’s cheek. “I did not permit you to speak.” he snarled, the hand around Jack’s neck tightening until his nails bit through the skin there. “Do it again, and I will let my crew have their way with you when I am done.”

Jack nodded breathlessly, tugging earnestly at Pitch’s hand until he was able to breathe again. Pitch smirked, and Jack glanced down to the massive shadow cock attached to his boyfriend. It was still growing, albeit much slower now, and it was absolutely massive. Oh god this was gonna hurt, but at the same time, it was going to be the most amazing sex they’d ever had. and he hadn’t even had to _ask_ Pitch to do this!

Pitch pressed up against the slight winter sprite, and Jack gritted his teeth as the massive head stretched his entrance. There was a loud **pop** , and Jack screamed as blood ran down his legs. Pitch continued pressing in, and Jack alternated between gasping for air and biting his lip to keep from jabbering. The shadows were enormous, filling him completely and then some, and they were still growing. He was tearing, bleeding, burning from the inside, and between the torturous ecstasy and lack of oxygen, he was getting lightheaded.

Pitch paused, breathing heavily, and his golden eyes shone as he leered at Jack. “You’re quite stubborn, aren’t you?”

The Nightmare King’s hand loosened on Jack’s throat, and the winter sprite gasped for air. Pitch chuckled, warm and genuine. “You’re learning.” he crooned, running the back of his hand down Jack’s cheek. “Now, come for me.” he wrapped a hand around Jack’s cock, untouched thus far, and the slender teen’s bright blue eyes fairly rolled back in his head. He came almost instantly, biting down on his lip hard enough to draw blood.

Pitch shuddered, and in a few quick thrusts he climaxed as well. They stayed like that for a minute, pressed against the wall, gasping and flushed and covered in sweat, and then Pitch smiled tenderly. The shadows holding Jack’s arms up vanished, as did the ones around his cock, and he pulled out of his lover as the eternal teen went limp in his arms.

“Are you hurt?” he whispered, stepping through a shadow into one of his Realm’s nicer bathrooms. The bath, large and ornately tiled, started to fill at a flick of his fingers.

“I think you ripped something.” Jack groaned, resting his head on Pitch’s shoulder. “That was awesome.” he chuckled, grinning into the high collar. “Let’s do it again.”

“Maybe later.” Pitch chuckled, setting his partner down and carefully removing the toga-like rag from the teen’s body. It disintegrated in his hands, and Jack grinned up at him blearily.

“I love you.” he chuckled.

Pitch smiled and pressed a kiss to the younger spirit’s forehead. “And I, you.”

“No.” Jack frowned as Pitch stood and began shedding his old clothing. “Like, I really love you. I wanna spend forever with you.”

Pitch sighed and shook his head, smiling wryly. “You do not understand the concept of eternity, Frost. You are young, not even a millennia old.”

“I know what it means when you promise someone forever, though.” Jack said solemnly. “I know spirits think it’s a stupid thing to promise, but I wanna anyway.” he reached up and caught Pitch’s hand in both his own. “As long as people believe in me, as long as I’m a Guardian, I want to be with you.”

Pitch chuckled and knelt in front of the pale sprite, planting a kiss on the young Guardian’s forehead. “And I would be blessed to keep you that long.” he grinned, looking down to undo the handcuffs. Jack winced as the first one was removed, and Pitch held his wrist firmly to inspect it. “Nothing serious, just minor first degree burns. they’ll blister like hell, but you should heal by the end of the week.”

Jack groaned, but held still as his lover removed the rest of the chains. “I hardly felt it.” he grumbled, rubbing his wrists as Pitch worked on the ankle shackles. “I think I may be developing an iron tolerance.”

Pitch snorted and released the final cuff. “That very well may be.”

Jack huffed, but didn’t fuss as Pitch picked him up and seated him in the tub. The water was comfortably lukewarm, and he relaxed against the edge as Pitch began washing him with a towel and some soap. He didn’t particularly like the soap, but he had to admit that even the prospect of getting infections was worse than the sting. Pitch rubbed him down gently, humming some Golden Age song as he did so, and Jack let himself doze. He was brought harshly back to reality when the soapy towel passed over the tear which stretched from his asshole, but was too exhausted to do more than flinch.

“I’m sorry.” Pitch murmured, one hand coming up to rub circles on Jack’s upper back. “I should have realized when I hurt you, and stopped testing you there.”

“S’kay.” Jack mumbled, wincing as the soap continued to sting. “I loved it, honest.”

Pitch sighed and paused in his ministrations, curling around Jack to press a kiss to his cheek. “You loved it, but I still feel bad that I hurt you.”

Jack chuckled, then winced as Pitch went back to cleaning him. The soaping up was done soon enough, and he went back to drifting as Pitch rinsed him off. He stood when Pitch pulled him to his feet, and accepted the large fluffy towel offered without complaint. Usually he would’ve simply frozen any moisture on his body and shattered the crystals into snow, but he was worn out and Pitch insisted that this was just as important as what came before it. The bed was cool and comfortable when he fell into it, and Jack was out like a light. Pitch slid under the covers behind him, and followed not long after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that, ladies and gents, is the end of Cabin Boy. I hope you had as much fun reading it as I did writing it. Merry Christmas!


End file.
